#you can stay high maintenance if that gets you through the day. But recognize I am not your mechanic. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

huihuiheart · 4 years ago

Text

Unchained - Wolf! Bang Chan

Navigation

Stray Kids Masterlist

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid! Chan x Female Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, smut

Summary: You knew your boyfriend was likely up to no good, but you assumed it was just a slight drug problem or something of the sort. At least, until he takes you with him, something you agree to only to know what kind of man you’re dating. Only to find out it’s much worse than you think, he’s been helping kidnap hybrids for illegal underground fights. Something you can’t stomach, but you also can’t just do nothing...which is exactly what the authorities would do. So you decide to break the hybrids out before you leave, only in the process you may end up stuck with a hybrid of your own.

Warnings: Hybrid Fights, Violence, aggression, domestic abuse? (an ex gets a little rough/aggressive), blood, slight gore, underground fighting, mentions of kidnapping, drugs, alcohol, betting, mentions of death, cops/detectives, gun fights, bullet wounds, unprotected sex, cursing, biting, marking (kind of, briefly mentioned), clothes ripping, Chan is impatient, and somewhat feral, bondage, oral (f! receiving), overstimulation, spanking, choking (slight).

Word Count: 14,754

Note: The story starts with you and your soon to be ex, it takes a little bit for Chan to show up...once he does though, oh boy....

Taglist: @lovesfaith @blessgguk

Taeho had been your boyfriend for a long time, years in fact. That’s how you knew as soon as something was up with him. At first, you had assumed it was just something temporary, a lapse in self-control brought on by the stress of his daily life. Which is why you’d kept quiet and to yourself, to begin with, as long as you weren’t having to clean up behind the problem and he wasn’t bringing it home you assumed everything would be okay, and that it wouldn’t be long for him to return to his normal self again.

Only, this all started six months ago and it seemed that if anything whatever it was only got worse. He disappeared more often or showed up at odd times of the night without warning. He never brought any signs of what he was doing home to you, leaving you to wonder if he was cleaning up at his own apartment before surfacing again or if he got into something you hadn’t quite considered before.

Whatever it was, you weren’t sure that you could continue to live in mystery. It was killing you inside not knowing if he’d even show up again or if he’d be dead. Or what if you got a call from the authorities saying he had gotten into trouble while drunk or high. You needed to know what was happening to know if he needed professional help or if you could at least talk some sense into him, for your own sake just as much as his. So you sent the text, asking him to come over to talk while you collect your thoughts.

Taeho comes in and smiles at you as he sets his keys down and gets settled in your familiar apartment, “Hey babe, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to find your earlier confidence again now, “I wanted to talk about how you’re sneaking around all the time now. It worries me.”

Taeho pouts a little, before chuckling and coming over to squish your cheeks some, “Are you worried I’m cheating on you baby? I could never. You don’t have to worry about that one bit.”

“I wasn’t worried about that being what it was.” You frown slightly at how dismissive he seems to be about the whole thing, “My thing is just that if you’re having to sneak around then whatever it is you probably shouldn’t be doing. I’m worried that whatever it is will cause bigger problems and maybe you won’t come home one day or something. So what is it? Drugs? Alcohol? You can tell me...”

Taeho sighs, pulling away slightly to run a hand through his hair, “You’re right, it’s not exactly legal. It’s not like that though baby, it’s not an addiction. It’s no big deal either, it’s just a way I can make more money for our future. So don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing, okay?”

“If it wasn’t a big deal you’d trust me with the details, instead of hiding everything from me and leaving me to have a heart attack when you show up at four in the morning.” You counter firmly, not having any of his excuses.

“How about this? I’ll think about it, and when I leave today I’ll leave your key. That way I can’t get in and scare you in the middle of the night? I have to give you advance warning then?” Taeho bargains and you can’t find it in yourself to argue, nodding softly, and letting things seemingly return to normal for the evening.

It had been about a week after your conversation with Taeho that you got the text. The one where he finally conceded to your wishes. Though now as you read and reread over the arrangement your gut twisted, not sure if this was such a great idea. What exactly had you gotten yourself into?

Still, you were insistent on figuring out if your boyfriend needed help or not, and there was no way you could do that at home without any of the details. So you got ready, throwing on something simple, just jeans and a hoodie in hopes of being able to be somewhat hidden wherever you ended up. Though you weren’t sure if that would be possible, maybe just being with Taeho would draw attention to you. Either way, it was too late to go back now as Taeho let you know he was at your building.

Getting into the passenger seat you could swear Taeho could hear your pounding heart. He paused looking at you for a moment as if debating himself if he was actually going to do this, before sighing softly and starting the car up again.

“You don’t have to come, you know. Once you know about this, there’s no going back. You can’t claim you were never involved anymore, if someone finds out you know stuff you could get into serious trouble. Otherwise, you have to stay quiet about it okay?” Taeho looks you firmly in the eyes as if warning you of what was to come. You simply nod though, staying quiet and unmoved waiting for him to drive off.

After about fifteen or so minutes he pulls into an empty lot near a metro station, turning the car off and getting out. Gesturing for you to follow his lead as he heads down into the station, one you weren’t familiar with as this wasn’t considered the best part of town.

“Stay close, or there might be some trouble,” Taeho whispers, offering you his hand to take as you go down and into the station, standing on the platform.

You quickly notice that there’s no station security here, only one or two homeless and no one else. Taeho waits for the next train to pass, before jumping down onto the tracks and holding his arms out to help you down as well. You’re hesitant, more so now than before with your location, but follow him.

Taeho notices and tries to ease you some, “Don’t worry, the cameras here are down and the next train doesn’t come for a half-hour. We'll be fine.”

His insistence leads you to follow him down the track in the direction that the train came from until you find a little maintenance platform hidden in the side of the tunnel. He helps you up before following, into the little abandoned inlet, opening the door and leading down the stairs to a basement section. Leading you through a few turns until you came to a door with a man standing outside, no doubt guarding it against any unwanted visitors.

“Hey Jeup, she’s with me.” Taeho nods to the man who looks over you for a moment, before getting the door for you both and stepping aside to let you in.

Slipping down one last set of stairs you’re in a dimly lit large room, the center area spotlighted as crowds form around it. Money and drinks being thrown around. You spot more than one questionable substance in the area. Three men walking over to you and your boyfriend.

“Hey Taeho, I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it.” The man leading them chuckles and claps your boyfriend on the back, “And you brought a guest.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss this match, it’s big and it’s my fighter. Of course, I’d be here.” Taeho chuckles and you feel your stomach churning as you start to put some of the pieces together. “Yeah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Jian, and this is Ungjae and Changbin. They’re two of my best. Though your boyfriend certainly brings in a pretty penny too, he’s found me some of the best fighters. Gotta keep the crowds entertained after all.” The man laughs a little, the other men smirking.

You feel slightly relieved knowing that it won’t be your boyfriend who is fighting, but still, you have an unsettling feeling about this. You knew that underground fights of any sort were bad news, your lack of details about these only worrying you further. Did they even have any care about rules here?

“She’s kinda shy and new to all this.” Taeho jokes with the men, slipping his arm around your middle.

“Well, we’ll be seeing you around Y/N. We have a fight to get set up though.” Ungjae nods before the three leave through the crowd.

That very crowd parting for you and your boyfriend as you come through, people recognizing Taeho, “ If you don’t want to look then just tell me, but otherwise you need to keep quiet.”

His whisper is harsh in your ear, yet you can barely make it out over the commotion that the crowd is giving as another man slips into the center area to announce the upcoming right as two others push large covered cages into the area. You feel the sickening feeling in your gut bubbling up at just what you’re about to witness. Assuming it would be some kind of fight between animals, ones you might not be able to look at the same way again after today.

The feeling only gets worse though when the cages are uncovered to reveal two hybrids, their names being announced through the microphone the man is holding. The names mean nothing to you though, even if you could have made them out over the pounding of your heart in your ears. The crowd seems to love it, however, the fighters being two of the big ones here. A wolf hybrid on the left and a lion hybrid on the right.

“Chan, the wolf hybrid is mine.” Your boyfriend whispers, before sighing as he sees your frightened, or rather appalled look, “Don’t be like that baby...they’re just animals, not like us. If you really can’t stomach it though, go to the back and buy a drink. I’ll get you when it’s over.”

You shake your head slightly, not sure what you’re going to do. When Chan looks over though, and into your eyes, you almost feel like you’re going to cry. Leaving back through the crowd to go find a drink like Taeho suggested, knowing there was no way you’d be able to stomach what was about to happen. You also weren’t sure there would be a way to stop it either though.

You down your drink quickly, hoping that along with the cheers of the crowd will be enough to drown out the sounds of the fight. You’re out of luck though as the growls, cries, snapping of jaws, and bones sound clearly through the room. There no way you could drown that out, or the guilt gnawing at you, yet what could you possibly do? You were clearly outnumbered and out forced by people who saw no problems with any of this. Plus you knew the authorities rarely gave more than a slap on a wrist to people who mistreated hybrids. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t realize someone was coming over to you.

“You can’t stomach it, can you?” Changbin asks leaning against the bar near you, “It’s okay, neither can I.”

Your brows furrow as you look at him, “Then why are you even here?”

Changbin leans in and sends you a flash inside his jacket, where a badge is hidden, before moving to whisper to you, “I’m undercover...hybrid division...and I’m trusting you by letting you know this because I can tell you don’t belong here and I don’t want you to end up in any worse of a situation. So if you’re willing to listen to me, then we’ll help each other out here. Okay?”

You glance back into the crowd to ensure that Taeho is still occupied before nodding at Changbin, “Okay, but what can I possibly do to help you?”

“Well...I’m not going to lie and say it’ll be easy or safe...but I’m hoping you’ll help me break the hybrids out. I can’t get it authorized by higher-ups yet, because this ring is bigger than just what you see today. We still need information, so I can’t risk exposing my identity to them.” Changbin starts, taking a turn at checking to see if you two had drawn attention, “I have a copy of the keys to their cages though and on the back way out you’ll pass by them. What I want you to do is break up with Taeho or at least just insist he point you the way out, it’s crucial he doesn’t go with you. Then get as many cages open on your way out, but be quick. Afterward, call me and let me know everything is okay. I’ll have someone check in as protection just in case. Whatever you do though...don’t take any of the hybrids to your house. Can you do that?”

You debate with yourself for a moment, not sure if you could follow through with what he was asking. At the end of the day though, you’d managed to follow through on getting yourself into this situation and you couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. You find yourself nodding again, holding your hand out for Changbin to slip the keys and paper with his number into. Items that you’re quick to hide in your pockets. Everyone thoroughly invested in the fight as it comes to a roaring end. The fight was closer than anyone could have predicted, as the cheers exploded and the winner helped back into his cage...what’s left of the loser being carted off who knows where. Changbin disappears into the crowd before anyone loses interest in the ring and spots you two talking, leaving it up to you at this point.

"Babe! I won! My fighter won! Plus I bet on him, do you understand how much I just made for us?" Taeho comes over and tries to crush you in an excited hug, only to be confused as you push his arms away. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"I...I can't be here right now...I can't be with you....not knowing that you're doing this. I...I need to leave right now and I don't want you with me...ever." You get out backing up as you shake your head.

Taeho sighs and advances towards you, "Come on baby, there just animals, what does it matter?"

You scoff, "You say that like it makes it better? If you were dogfighting I'd still be disgusted in you. Besides the only person acting like an animal here is you. Now point me the way out and don't show your face to me again."

Taeho shakes his head pointing towards the back like Changbin had earlier, "If you go that way it's a straight shot out. Don't expect me to just drop this conversation though. I'll give you time and then we're gonna talk about it. I can't just not talk to you about it."

You knew you didn't want that, but you were afraid of what the repercussions of making a scene right now might be. So you simply nodded, shoulders slumping in defeat as you headed out the door leading to the back way out. Creeping your way through the damp hallways, the smell of mold and sewage rampant but something you ignored as you came to the first cage. Checking around once more before quickly unlocking it and starting to work your way through the room hoping to get them all. You were almost done when you heard the sound of voices approaching, signaling that you were about out of time. Turning to leave your eyes locked with the same pair from the ring, only now they held slightly less life in them. Chan having been torn up pretty badly in the fight he'd just been in. Looking like he likely stood no chance if you left him here to face off what would no doubt be an infection in one if not many of his wounds later.

So you worked fast to open the cage, ignoring the growl from the wolf hybrid as you moved to help him out. You knew he likely hated you and for good reason, you were a stranger in this environment that had only brought him suffering and pain. You could worry about the dangers of helping him later though. For now, you just needed to get the two of you out...and fast.

“I promise I’m trying to get you someplace better than this, but if they get us then we’re both dead. So I’m gonna need you to help me out.” You whisper to Chan as you slip his arm around your shoulders, your own going around his center to help him out. Moving as quickly as the two of you can ignore Chan’s grumbles as the voices get louder and start to sound somewhat pissed, worrying you that they’d caught onto your acts.

Slipping out the back entrance you make your way down the street, tossing the keys you’d used in some random trash can so that if they caught up to you no one would find any proof you’d done what you had. You were starting to panic though, Chan needed help...you couldn’t just leave him. Yet, Changbin had explicitly said not to take any of the hybrids back to your house. Doing the only thing you could think, you used your free hand to try and call him on the number he gave you, slipping into an alleyway to let Chan sit down to rest.

Changbin taking long enough to answer that you weren’t quite sure he would pick up, “Are you alright Y/N? Is something wrong?”

“Changbin, I got all the cages open...but one of them was hurt from the fight...I think you called him Chan. I helped him get out, he needs more though... I’m worried he’s gonna die or something if I leave him. What should I do?” You whimper over the phone taking turns watching between the street and Chan for his well-being.

“You didn’t take him to your house, did you? They have trackers Y/N...if they spot him at your house there’s going to be a whole slew of problems.” Changbin panics over the phone as you hear a car door close, “In fact where are you? I’m on my way to help.”

“I’m still close to the station...too close I’m afraid. In an alleyway.” You urge Chan up again before he can get any worse helping him to slip out the alley and start away again.

“I’m sending you directions now, to a doctor who specializes in hybrids and a friend of mine. Start heading there, I’ll follow the same path and when we cross I’ll pick you and Chan up.” Changbin says, starting up his car, “Oh and Y/N...be careful. I’ll be there soon.”

When he hangs up, you pull up his directions starting to follow them as Chan grumbles again making you sigh, “Listen...be as bitchy and growly as you want later, but right now your life and mine are on the line so shut it and just come with to the doctor so he can help you.”

“I never asked for anyone’s help. Especially not yours, so why don’t you just run along now to someone who actually gives a fuck. It’s not like you really did anything for me. Fight to live in there or fight to live out here, what’s the real difference.” Chan snaps at you, his harshness stinging slightly despite you knowing it’s his history with people and not you specifically.

“I’m not just going to leave you to die! I don’t care if I have to drag you there I will, but I don’t think that either of us wants that.” You insist already somewhat dragging him along, despite him holding some of his weight still.

“Why the hell not? Why would you possibly want to help me? Do you want a little pet or something? Cause that’s not happening princess.” Chan scoffs waiting for you to announce some underlying motive behind your actions.

“Because I couldn’t live with myself if I just left you. It’s not right. Leaving someone who’s hurt...who you can help all alone to suffer and die. I’m not someone who wants you for a pet. I want you to have a life, which is definitely not on the table if you die. So let’s get you your health back first and then worry about any other obstacles to you getting a full life after that’s resolved, okay?” You don’t get a verbal response from Chan, considering he had no idea what to say. Not used to being treated like an actual person before, his heart softening some at your conviction, it proving you truly had pure intentions. You get some form of an answer though when he straightens up slightly, cooperating further in your helping him.

Chan’s body language changed again though when Changbin pulled up, not trusting him in the least. His gut trusted you, however, and that’s what won out, convincing him to get into the back of the car with you. Letting Changbin drive you two off to an unfamiliar place. One he also was not fond of with how sterile and medical it smelled, only used to that from whenever those who fought them needed something done...like putting in the tracker that was now going to need to be taken out.

“Minho! We need help! He has a tracker though, so take care of that first and give it to me...I’ll make sure you all have plenty of time here.” Changbin calls into the clinic another man popping out to lead the way.

Minho makes quick work of the tracker in Chan’s arm, handing it to Changbin who runs off with it after apologizing for getting you into this mess and leaving you and Chan to find another way home. Before Minho is laying Chan back and getting things ready, putting in a drip iv since he was both dehydrated and it was the best way to give him painkillers at this point.

“He’s going to need someone to look out for him while he recovers,” Minho tells you, starting to stitch up an injury. Chan watches him closely, wary of the situation while he slowly starts to fade out of consciousness due to the meds.

“I can keep an eye on him, I might not do a perfect job but I’ll try my best.” You nod at Minho before smiling at Chan, “You just rest up now, and get better. It’ll all be okay, I promise.”

Chan’s not sure where he is or how much time has passed. all he knows is his eyelids are heavy and his brain foggy. Trapped in a haze from the meds the previous night, yet fighting past it as the smell of food wafted throughout the apartment. His brows furrowing as he sits up, in an unfamiliar bed at that. Not that he was used to any bed, even still knowing that this was someone else’s set his nerves ablaze.

What calmed him though was picking up your scent, this was your bed...yet your scent wasn’t strong enough to imply you slept beside him last night. His assumption confirmed as he looked around and spotted a much less comfortable-looking armchair converted into a makeshift bed while a fit aid kit sat on the night table between the chair and where he slept.

Chan is slow about getting out of bed, being careful of his injuries and the remaining effect of the medicine, yet unable to ignore the call of food. Letting it lead his way to where you were working in the kitchen, mouth-watering at both the sight and the smell as he watched you closely. He wondered to himself if he’d have to sneak any of that for himself though, would you share with him or would you give him something less grand like everyone had before. He couldn’t deny that you treated him differently, yet everyone had their limits...didn’t that?

“Are you feeling alright?” You ask, having spotted him when you finally looked up, “If you’re in pain you can sit down and I can get you something for that really quick. The food is almost done anyway since you shouldn’t take them on an empty stomach.”

“I’m feeling alright at the moment actually, better than after most fights like this to be honest.” Chan admits quietly, slowly stepping closer, “Is that for me too?”

You chuckle and nod, “Yeah, there’s no way I can eat all this by myself. Besides I thought that a good high protein breakfast would help you get some of your energy back and help you recover some more. Sound good?”

“That sounds...that sounds amazing. Thank you.” Chan is flabbergasted, practically in awe of your attitude towards him. As if he was just any other person to you.

“Alright go sit then, don’t strain your injuries. I’ll bring it to you in a minute.” You shoo him away with a smile. Chan’s face is graced with a tiny smile of his own as he moves to listen without much fight for once, looking around to take everything in as he sits at the table. Joined by you with the food after not too long.

“If you’re still hungry afterward I can always make more or you can help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen. Just try not to eat too fast. Minho said sometimes the meds can make your stomach a little sensitive and I don’t think it would be good if you got sick right now.” You advise him as you take your seat, “So...I never actually asked, what’s your name?”

Chan’s brows furrow as he looks up at you after quickly shoveling his first bite of food in, “I mean you know what they called me...Chan...”

You shrug, eating some of your food, ”Yeah, well that’s not what I asked is it? I didn’t ask what they called you, I asked what your name was.”

“Christopher...my name is Christopher.”

The day seemed to pass fairly well, Chan slowly getting more comfortable in your apartment, not that you minded. You encourage him to rest from time to time and let him clean up and put on some clothes you’d run out and gotten for him. Occasionally checking your phone to see if any news came up about what you had done or Changbin texted you anything just in case.

You knew something would come up from last night though you would be naïve to think otherwise. Especially after what Taeho had told you before you left. The chaos coming crashing back into your peaceful little bubble when a fist pounds against your door. Chan’s eyes darkening as he looks over at it, already recognizing the scent on the other side.

“Y/N! Open this door right fucking now! We need to talk!” Taeho yells through the door, making you tense and panic. Your hands shake slightly as you give Chan your phone.

“Chris, take this and text Changbin what’s happening, he’ll send help. Go hide in my room or something, don’t let him know you’re here, or that information might get out.” You whisper to him, knowing that he’d have no problems hearing you.

Chan debates for a moment, not wanting to leave you...especially if you were going to face your pissed-off ex-boyfriend. Yet, he knew it would be better if the information about what you had done didn’t get out. For your sake, as much as his, he knew these were dangerous people, and Taeho was by no means the worst of them. So he went and disappeared into your room, texting Changbin, who he still didn’t necessarily trust, but if it would help and keep you safe he would do it.

You crack the door open and sigh softly at Taeho, “What the hell do you want? I thought you said you’d give me time before showing up to talk about this again?”

Taeho huffs, forcing the door open, not caring if it stays that way as he advances on you, “Yeah, well that’s before you made the dumbass decision to break all of them out.”

You back up as he moves closer, body language screaming aggression, and you hope you can either convince him to leave or help gets here before anything can happen, “What are you even talking about, Taeho?”

“Right after you left, all the hybrids were broken out. You really want to tell me that wasn’t you? After you were oh so disgusted by what was going on? I go out and make us good money, and you turn around and do this to me...well guess what, now it’s my ass on the line, so you better start talking before I turn it around onto you. I will throw you to the wolves if I have to for my own sake.” Taeho hisses, backing you against a wall with no way out.

“Sure, I was disgusted, but how would I even have managed to get them out, Taeho? Huh? They were in cages. What could I do?” You counter trying to push him off, but he doesn’t budge.

“They were, and then someone changed that. I’m guessing it was you, considering everyone else there has been there for a good while.” Taeho shoves you back against the wall.

“Once again, how would I have opened the fucking cages, Taeho? What? Did I just see some bolt cutters lying around and decide to take matters into my own hands?” You purposely throw out a made-up way of opening the cages, and it gets him to give you a little space to breathe at least.

“No...they were open with keys.” Taeho’s voice softens slightly, taking a step back enough to let your now sore back finally come off the wall.

“How would I have gotten my hands on those keys? The only person I would know well enough to be able to sneak them off was you? Were your keys missing? Cause that should be your answer right there? Now, if you’re done throwing out baseless accusations, get the fuck out of my house and go look for whoever the person with a new moral compass is.” You shake your head, hand rubbing slightly at your back.

“Oh, I’m not leaving just yet. I have a feeling you know something at least. Even if you weren’t the one who was behind it, and I’m going to figure out what it is.” Taeho insists, looking around your apartment before spotting two sets of everything laying around, “Who else is here, Y/N?”

“No one, what are you talking about?” You play it off, and he rolls his eyes.

“Two cups of coffee I wouldn’t have batted an eye at, but two take-out meals when you’re on your current healthy eating kick...not so much. Before you make up excuses, I can see that both boxes are empty. So save it and tell me who the fuck is here with you.” Taeho hisses, and when you scoff he grabs your arm, squeezing painfully tight, “I don’t have time for games.”

“Let go of me. No one is here, and even if someone was, that’s not your goddamn business. I don’t want you in my life anymore. That means I can have whoever the hell I want over here, and I don’t have to justify shit to you about it.” You respond, trying to pull out of his grip.

Taeho shoves you behind him, cursing under his breath, “Whatever, it is my business cause I’m the one who’s going to have to pay for it if this comes back to you. If you don’t want to tell me, though, I’ll go figure out who’s here myself.”

“No, the fuck you won’t.” A voice sounds from the entranceway to your apartment. Changbin standing there and walking in, “It seems like you’ve done more than enough damage here Taeho, let’s take this outside.”

“Changbin. So you’re the one, huh? Bet Jian would love to hear all about this.” Taeho chuckles, crossing his arms and scoffing at the other.

“Oh, but he won’t hear a peep.” Changbin counters showing Taeho his badge, “So you can either come willingly, and we can talk terms that are a better deal for you. Or you can make this a whole lot worse for yourself than it already is.”

Taeho huffs before cooperating with the detective, making you wonder just how often he already got into trouble to be able to go along without much direction at all. You truly didn’t know the man he was, the man you thought you loved...who you thought loved you. You were distracted for a moment, though, when Chan rushed out to you, quickly helping you up and looking you over.

“I knew you had been involved! You’re the one who took my fighter!” Taeho screeched heatedly, making Chan’s attention snap to him. His gaze burns through Taeho as he growls towards the man moving to advance on him until you get between them.

“Whoa, easy Chris, don’t do anything to him. He deserves it, but it won’t help you any right now. There are too many people who would use it against hybrids, you and others. Besides, there’s plenty of charges on him right now that he’s going away no matter what, you won’t have to see him ever again.” You insist on trying to be logical, despite knowing that Taeho deserved anything that Chan had intended to do at this point. He had practically asked for it through what he did.

This is why you walked over and slapped him in the face, leaving a mark that would fade by the time anyone else was around, but still giving him a taste of what he deserved, “For the record, though, Christopher doesn’t belong to anyone. You’re just a dumbass who can’t look past his own selfish desires to treat people like they deserve.”

Chan looks at you stunned before pulling you back to him as Taeho suddenly decided to get aggressive again, trying to get to you. Changbin dragged him away to take care of it.

“I’m going to have my last partner come check in on you and make sure it’s safe for you guys to stay here. He’s one of the few people I trust to look out for you guys in this situation. His name is Hyunjin, I’ll send him over. Until then, keep the door closed and locked.” Changbin tells you before he’s entirely out of your apartment with Taeho.

You gently place a hand on Chan’s shoulder to assure him you’re okay before pulling away to close and lock up your apartment. Chan never far behind as he follows after you still concerned.

“Are you alright?” Chan finally speaks up in a soft tone, and you hum looking at him a little confused.

“Yeah, I mean where I got hit still stings some, but I’ll be fine.” You nod, forcing a small smile to try and ease his worries. Chan gently brushed his fingers over where Taeho had grabbed you harshly, already knowing bruises were forming.

“I meant emotionally after all of that...still you don’t need to lie to me about it.” Chan counters yet does not sound angry or cross with you despite calling you out like that.

“You’ve been through more physically and emotionally. I’ll be fine.” You brush it off with a small shrug, moving to walk away and to the kitchen. Your responses only worry Chan more.

“I was used to that by now, though. You’ve just had everything come crashing down onto you all at once after he lied to you about it for who knows how long. That’s a lot, and you don’t have to tell me anything about it if you don’t want to, but you don’t have to force yourself to be fine for me either. Even if we’re both broken right now, that’s okay...maybe...maybe we can help fix each other...together.” Chan’s voice drifts from concerned to hopeful. He’s not sure he has any idea what he’s doing. He just knows that you don’t deserve this, and you’re making him feel for once like he doesn’t either.

You sniffle, turning towards him with a fresh round of tears in your eyes, “ You know what, Chris...I’d like that.”

Besides going to work pretty much all of your time was spent with Chan in your apartment. Your heart breaking for him, he was free from the cage but stuck here until everything could get worked out. You’d gotten closer to Changbin and Hyunjin, Chan slowly coming to trust them with you. The two guiding you through the process that would lead to the numerous court cases looming over you. Minho occasionally popped in as well to check on Chan and make sure he was adjusting to life with you okay.

“So the date for the case to determine if Chris can safely stay with you or not is locked in for next week now. Before then, we want you both to meet some people, one is a hybrid. He wasn’t in fights like Chris, but he was in a rough situation too. The other person is the one who helped him get a life back, like how you’re doing. They had to go through similar trials as you two will, so they might be able to give you some insight on how to go forward. That being said...Chris hasn’t really been around another hybrid outside of the fights, so just take it slow, it might be a bit uncomfortable for a while.” Changbin tells you while Chris and Hyunjin are in the kitchen working up something to eat.

“That would probably help a lot actually. You and Hyunjin have offered a lot of help, but we’re still kind of drawing blind here. Having someone who can kind of guide us on the specifics would probably help a lot with the anxiety, to say the least.” You sigh softly, and Changbin chuckles a little, nodding in agreement.

“Their names are Felix and Jisung. Their schedule is pretty open, we just weren’t sure where you’d be comfortable meeting, so we didn’t invite them over yet.” Changbin explains, pulling out his phone, and you shrugs softly.

“Well, we’re still not wanting Chris to be spotted, so just invite them over it’ll be fine.” You wave him off. Having three guys constantly around your apartment kept it pretty chaotic anyways, what were two more, right? “Speaking of that, though, any idea when the other cases will be?”

“The bust on the ring is happening in a few days, before the first case but not much. Just enough to not put a bigger target on you both by being out in such a public place. It’s just a matter of how long it’ll take to build the case after that. I’d expect it to take about three weeks from the bust, a month at the absolute latest. The hybrid rights case is scheduled for just over a month from now, at this point anyways. Those dates could change, though.”Changbin’s huff tells you he’s no stranger to changing court dates, not that you and Chan are either at this point. Changbin slipping his phone back into his pocket after texting Felix and Jisung your address.

You nod, processing the information he’s just shared with you, “Okay, as long as the bust happens before our court date, I’m not too worried. I just want everything to be as safe as possible.”

Changbin sighs, his lip between his teeth and face concerned, “Either way, it won’t necessarily be safe...or pleasant...There are going to be people who are very against what you and Chris are trying to work towards.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not going to back down from doing the right thing because of that, though. As long as the people who started this whole mess are behind bars and not trying to shut us up, I’ll be alright.” You insist, Changbin nodding, but you can tell he’s still worried about you, “Besides, I’d say we have a pretty good support group.”

Chan pops out of the kitchen, beaming proudly at you, “Hey Y/N! Come look at this!”

You hum, standing to follow the excited man into the kitchen. You watch as his ears twitch, chuckling as you notice him intently eyeing the kitchen timer. Hyunjin, looking up from where he leans against the counter and snickering as well.

“You can open it and look at them, it won’t ruin anything. Besides, sometimes the timer isn’t exactly right anyways.” Hyunjin tells Chan, who shakes his head adamantly.

“No, they need to be perfect. Besides, they’re almost done.” Chan insists, waiting for the ding to launch forward, grabbing the oven mitts so he can pull out whatever is in the oven as there’s a knock on the door. Changbin calls that he’ll get it as Chan pulls cupcakes out of the oven, “Look! We made cupcakes! And we can make a lot more too!”

Chan’s excitement dropping almost immediately, head whipping towards the door. His expression is sharp and concerning you. You look between him and the doorway with furrowed brows.

“What is it Chris, what’s wrong?” The slight waver in your voice draws Chan’s attention to you for a moment. A feeling of guilt bubbling in his gut at worrying you like that.

“Don’t worry. It’s just a cat.” Chan snorts, only confusing you more until you see Changbin appearing with two people. One of them being a cat hybrid, his tail flicking anxiously behind him until he spots the cupcakes.

“Did you bake those?” The cat hybrid perks up, mirroring Chan’s earlier excitement. Chan looks between the cupcakes and the other hybrid, still wary but eventually choosing to interact with the cat hybrid.

“Yeah. I’ve never baked anything before. Hyunjin was showing me how.” Chan slowly answers, and the other man nods along.

“Well, they smell really good. You should go ahead and try them. I bake a lot, and usually something that smells this yummy is.” The cat takes a step away from the cupcakes giving Chan a bit more space to go towards the cakes. Chan hesitates for a moment before holding one out to the other hybrid, much like a peace offering.

“I’m Chris,” Chan speaks, still watching the cat closely but slowly trying to let him in with the same compassion as you had first shown him.

“My name is Felix! We’re here to help you with some of the details for your case, but if you want we can be friends too! I could show you just how many different kinds of things you can bake!” Felix eagerly offers, making Chan light up a little more as he nods along. Slowly adjusting to the fact that, like people, not all hybrids are threats to him either.

You look at Jisung and smile softly, “Thank you for coming. I think this will be really good...for both him and me.”

The day of your first case finally arrived as you stood in front of Chan, fixing his tie for the umpteenth time, trying to calm your own nerves. Chan gently takes your hands into his own, trying to comfort you some.

“I’m nervous too, but it’ll be okay. Everyone is going to be here to stand up for us and help us out.” Chan reassures you, squeezing your hands gently before letting them go as your lawyer arrives.

Seungmin looks between the two of you, “It’ll be alright, just remember what we talked about and it’ll be okay. They’re going to try and throw you off and get under your skin, so don’t let them. Just stay calm and answer like we practiced.”

You and Chan nod before following Seungmin into the courtroom and following him to your place. Passing by where your support group sat, everyone, having cleared their schedule to be here for you even if they weren’t going to need to testify. You glanced back at their smiling, encouraging faces from where you were seated between Chan and Seungmin, before taking a shaky breath to calm yourself. Changbin had told you that you were lucky to get the judge you had, Yang Jeongin, he could be a tough judge, but he was fair when it came to hybrid cases. He treated them as a person, one who could speak for themselves and had a right to do so, which is more than many judges would right now.

Your hand held Chan’s under the table, letting Seungmin do his job knowing that you and Chan would likely be the last ones questioned based on how everyone prepared you for today. So far it seems accurate as Changbin was called up first.

“So Detective Seo would you please explain to everyone how you can to know the defendants?” The prosecutor asks, and while you knew that the question was coming you still felt your nerves spike at that moment. Chan’s history and how you all met was something you knew could either make or break your case today, and you could only hope for the best.

“I was working undercover as part of an operation to take down an illegal hybrid fighting ring. Chan happened to be one of the fighters that they held there by force.” Changbin answers calmly, trying to leave you out of it. The prosecutor is having none of it though, looking between him and you for a moment.

“And what about Miss Y/N? How did you meet her?” They continue to question. Chan picks up on how your heartbeat speeds up, squeezing your hand softly to try and calm you down.

“Her boyfriend was a part of the ring and brought her one night to show her what he did for a living. She wanted out that same night but was concerned for her safety. So -” Changbin goes to defend you, but the prosecutor cuts him off.

“So if I understand you correctly Miss Y/N was unable to read her boyfriend of many years. So how can we be sure she’d know if Chan was going to do something or not? If she can’t be trusted to speak up to someone she was so intimate with, how can speak up to someone she’s known for barely a month?” The prosecutor inquires rhetorically to the judge, before going to sit again.

Seungmin shaking his head and standing to take his place at questioning Changbin, �� Detective Seo it seems the prosecutor cut off the rest of your earlier statement, could you please finish it for us?”

“Sure, since she wanted out, but was concerned for her safety. I suggested how to handle things with her boyfriend at the time and gave her a number in case she needed police protection of any kind. On the way out she released the hybrids and afterward we met to give Chan medical aid.” Changbin finished and Seungmin nodded along as if in thought.

“Would you say this is the kind of thing you see often in your job? Where a criminal’s significant other gets pulled into situations such as this?” Seungmin’s next question is something you weren’t expecting but it gave you some hope of redemption.

“Without a doubt, a lot of criminals are excellent liars so they can keep what they do a secret for a long time. Then when they do finally reveal that world to their significant other they tend to put a lot of fear into them. Mostly to ensure their own protection. Scaring them into not speaking up or anything. Usually, it’s entirely justifiable too. When these people threaten things, they mean it. For example, in Miss Y/N’s case, her boyfriend forced his way into her apartment, invaded her privacy by trying to search her home, and even used physical force to try and coerce her into things after that night where I helped her get away. Had things escalated again we would have had to move both her and Chan to a safe house.” Changbin answers and Seungmin nods.

“So really, Y/N’s morals speak for themselves. As soon as she realized what was going on she freed the hybrids and stood up for what was right even at the price of her own safety.” Seungmin concluded before they let Changbin down from the stand. Him giving you both a small smile in passing.

Minho getting called up next. Putting the pressure on Chan now instead of you, not that it really helped your anxiety too much right now.

“So Dr. Lee, you first met Y/N and Chan when they came in after that fight to get him medical attention. Is that correct?” The prosecutor starts simple, before continuing after Minho voices his confirmation, “ Would you share with us some of the observations you made of Chan at the time?”

“I observed that his injuries appeared to be repeated injuries, likely from years of fighting. He also appeared to be dehydrated and not properly nourished, along with being somewhat agitated. Something not uncommon for someone in that amount of physical pain.” Minho explains and the prosecutor nods.

“What of his mental health? Did you make any observations about that?” The prosecutor presses and you know where he was going. Seungmin and Changbin had warned you they might try to argue that Chan needs to be in a facility after the way he’d been treated in the past.

“I am not authorized to make any observations other than basic of that sort. That being said I can request that a patient of mine go to receive a psych evaluation if I notice things seem to be an issue, based on the basic knowledge of that field I have. When Chan came in I deemed that was unnecessary. I simply suggested that both he and Miss Y/N look into therapy for various reasons as it might help.” Minho answers and that’s enough for the prosecutor to run with.

“Your honor, as you can see the doctor suggested therapy without that medical professional in their life can we actually be sure that their mental states are in a place where they would be safe in a home together?” The prosecutor presses before Jeongin dismisses him and invites Seungmin to question Minho if he chooses.

“Dr. Lee, could you please share with us your reasoning on why each of the defendants might benefit from therapy?” Seungmin inquires and Minho nods.

“In Chan’s case after all he went through it might be prudent to talk things out after them being bottled in for so long, or perhaps to find some underlying PTSD after what he went through. Allow him a way to adjust to having a free life again. In Y/N’s case, it would be due to what her boyfriend of the time did. How he lied to her and then betrayed her trust and even brought harm upon her. Since they have not known each other long, even if trust is there they may not have learned how to fully communicate or might not want to burden the other, which is where a therapist could assist.” Minho responds and Seungmin thanks him, allowing him to leave.

That’s when the real worries set in as the prosecutor sets his eyes on the pair of you, calling Chan up to be questioned first. Saving you for the very end.

“Chan, can you share with us what you remember of your life before the fight happened?” The prosecutor’s questioning Chan about a touchy subject and you know it, not knowing much yourself about his life before the fights.

“I don’t remember much. My parents weren’t around for long, they were sold off when I was little. When I got a little older that family got a new hybrid, a younger one, and threw me out. It was pretty much the streets and then being taken to the fights.” Chan does surprisingly well at staying calm you notice, more so than you would likely do in his shoes.

“So the fights weren’t the first stroke of bad luck you’ve had in life then?” The prosecutor’s question makes Chan roll his eyes.

“Well I was born a hybrid, so no not really. Bad luck tends to follow us around in this society.” Chan huffs softly, slightly more irritated at that question. Making the prosecutor smirk at getting under his skin for a moment.

“How would you say that has impacted your daily life then?” The prosecutor presses further but doesn’t get what he’s looking for in immediate action as Chan calms down again.

“To be honest, it haunts me. A feeling of guilt knowing that you did things you didn’t want because there wasn’t a choice. The pain of losing the few friends you had. The memories of the things you’ve seen and lived through.” Chan answers and the prosecutor nods, turning him over to Seungmin.

“I just have one question for you Chan, that’s it. How would you say that Y/N impacts your daily life?” Seungmin questions and for the first time today, you think you see Chan genuinely smile some.

“Well for starters she taught me not to hate all humans, along with a few other friends I’ve made. Which is another thing she taught me how to make friends again, I don’t have to be afraid of losing them. Or be afraid that all humans will treat me the way I have been before. For once I’m actually happy and she’s teaching me about the world. How to be a part of society and stuff, well as best we could while hiding out until the ring was taken care of and it was safe to go out. I can take care of myself and others even for the first time in my life, plus I feel like I have a life now.” Chan smiles at you and if this were any other time you might let yourself get emotional.

You know that right now you have to stay calm though. That you have to keep it together considering that you’re going to be called up next.

“Miss Y/N, do you have any history working with police or anything similar in nature to your current involvement?” The prosecutor asks and when you respond with no he continues, “What about history when being around or working with hybrids?”

“No, I don’t have any history with that either.” You respond softly, worried that any answer you give might just be what changes things for you and Chan again.

“Then this must all be quite daunting for you, isn’t it?” The prosecutor continues and you shrug softly.

“I mean...at first it was yes. I’m used to it now though. I feel better too, knowing I did what was right and helped people as best that I could.” You respond honestly, knowing that he was just getting started.

“So would you say you have it all figured out then? That you know how to handle anything that comes up with Chan perfectly?” The prosecutor presses.

“Well...no, but-” You go to defend yourself, yet he cuts you off before you can finish much like he’d done earlier with Changbin.

“As you can see your honor, they don’t really know what they’re doing when together. They have good intentions, yes, but there are too many unknowns between the two of them.” The prosecutor takes his seat.

Seungmin comes up to you, offering a small smile, “Miss Y/N can you please finish what you were saying before the prosecution interrupted your statement?”

You give a small nod, “I was going to say that while I don’t know what I’m doing perfectly that’s normal. I’m human, I’m naturally imperfect. Mistakes happen, but I’m willing to try my best, and if a mistake does happen to take responsibility for that. Just like with anything else in life.”

Seungmin hums, “Since you mentioned responsibility would you mind sharing with us what has been on your plate this last month or so? What all have you been responsible for?”

“Sure, it wasn’t safe to be out too much either of us. Especially Chan though, in case someone from the ring spotted us and followed us back. So I would go to work, pick up any groceries on the way home. Or just anything that either of us needed. Then at home, I would make sure we’d eaten and taken care of anything needed for the detectives or the doctor so that I could take it to them the next day. Or arrange an appointment at a time when we could discreetly get Chan there in a safe way.” You answer easily, used to the routine after so long.

“And you did this every day?” Seungmin continues, making you nod softly.

“Yeah, every day except for Sundays. Usually anyways, Sundays we tried to relax or I would try to teach Chan something new.” You respond and Seungmin smiles helping you down and letting you know that you did well.

“Very well, we’ll take a thirty-minute recess to review everything that has been presented. Afterward, we’ll have closing statements, followed by the verdict.” Jeongin announces before the recess begins.

One of the guys brought you both water as they all tried to encourage you, saying they thought it would turn out well for you both. You still weren’t as positive though and Chan could tell, squeezing your hand he leans in.

“It’ll be okay. No matter what you did your best and we can be friends either way.” He whispers his reassurance and you find yourself giving a small smile for his sake.

Thirty minutes was both too long and not long enough. Dragging it out made you more anxious and yet you weren’t sure you wanted to know what the verdict was. You tuned out the final statements, not processing that at this point. Your focus was solely on the judge as you waited to hear what decision had been made.

Jeongin clearing his throat and looked between both sides of the room before beginning to speak, “After analyzing everything and deliberation it has been decided Bang Chan will be allowed to remain with Y/L/N Y/N, however, they will attend 12 hours of mandatory therapy to assist with these new circumstances.” He nods at you and Chan, “And I’ll see you both bright and early for that case against the hybrid fighting ring. Until then, stay safe and don’t cause any trouble.”

You look at Chan stunned, until he happily pulls you into his arms and hugs you with a laugh, “I told you that you didn’t have anything to worry about!”

You chuckle and nod, “ You did, but still it’s a lot.”

Seungmin smiles at you both, “I’ll see you later to discuss the other cases, until then just enjoy this. Detectives Seo and Hwang will escort you home. I believe they had something to discuss with you anyways.”

“Come on we’re going out the back. There’s a crowd out front and they won’t be too happy when they heard what the verdict on your case just now was.” Hyunjin tells you both before leading the way. Changbin following behind you both just in case.

“Okay, what was it that you two wanted to talk to us about though?” You question as you follow their lead easily.

“Ah, about that...it seems someone who works with the ring is still out. So for your safety, we’re going to be moving the both of you to a safe house until after the trial, unless we can secure the suspect sooner.” Changbin admits, sighing softly, “You can get your things from home, and then we can take you there.”

Chan helped you to get your things out of the car and into the safe house. The two of you sitting on the couch while Hyunjin and Changbin made sure the house hadn’t been compromised in any way before letting you both get settled. They had taken care of your work and everything for you so that you both could get to the safe house and made arrangements for anything else that would be necessary while you were in the safehouse.

Hyunjin rubs the back of your neck as he comes over, “So since we didn’t have much time to get this together this place only had one bedroom...one of you can probably take the couch, but even off shift at least Changbin or I will be here to supervise the officers and make sure you’re both safe...so we might be sleeping here too. I guess basically what I’m trying to say is there’s not enough beds or couches for everyone.”

You blush a little, but wave him off, “I mean Chris and I are probably okay sharing a room if you and Changbin are okay taking rotations on the couch or something...if that’s okay with everyone else?”

Chan chuckles and nods, “Yeah I don’t mind, that’s pretty much what we did at the apartment for a few weeks anyway.”

Hyunjin nods and sends you and Chan off in the direction of the room to get settled. You finish up before Chan, sitting on the bed and watching him finish up. Chan looked over at you and laughed softly.

“So what do you want to do now? Read a book?” Chan snickers flopping down beside you.

“I don’t know that we’ll find any entertaining ones around this house.” You laugh a little yourself, “Probably should have thought about that a little bit more when they said we’d have no phones or internet for three weeks.”

“Yeah probably, we’ll find something to do, for now though, I’m gonna go let them know that we’re all good and see if there’s anything else we’re supposed to do before trying to gain some semblance of normalcy here.” Chan smiles at you, reaching out to gently brush your hair out of your face before getting up to leave the room again. In effect, leaving you all alone for now.

After a moment you got up, glancing towards the window. You thought for a moment before deciding to take a peek through the blinds. Nothing that would risk you being seen, just enough to take in your surroundings for now. Hearing the door you turn to face Chan with furrowed brows.

“Get away from there, it’s not safe to be around the windows.” Chan calmly says watching you step away and picking up on your confusion, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Who are the men that just showed up outside the house? Are they more officers?” You try to keep your voice from shaking. The way Chan’s eyes widen at you your question doesn’t help the uneasy feeling bubbling in your stomach though.

He quickly takes your place, ears twitching as he sneaks a lookout. Before grabbing you and pulling you out of the room. Startling Changbin, Hyunjin, and the others who were there to protect you.

“Four armed men just pulled up. I’m guessing by the look of them that they aren’t with you.” Chan growls out before his ear twitches again, hearing a sound from outside.

He’s quick to drop to the ground with you in his arms. His body wrapped around you for protection as gunshots rang out. His hearing gave him a split-second advantage to get you two in a safer area, even if it still wasn’t a good place to be in. Hyunjin and Changbin round the corner to meet you not long after, guns are drawn and keeping an eye towards the front.

"Are you two alright?" Changbin asks while Hyunjin covers you before having to reload. When both of you voice that you're so far unscathed he continues, "There's no way we're making it out the front with how many guys there are. We're going to have to go out back before they can surround us. When I tell you two to go, run. Outback and look for a car. Don't look back and if we aren't right behind you then just go. Head straight to the police station and let them know what happened."

"Alright." Chan nods, grip firm on your arm, ready to get you out of there as soon as Changbin tells you both to run.

"Go now!" Changbin tells you as for him and Hyunjin lay down cover fire for your escape. About the time you reach the door you hear him cry out in pain though. Looking back you see Changbin hit the ground, leg bleeding from a gunshot wound as Hyunjin tries to cover you and drag him towards the back door.

"Chris they're not gonna make it." You gasp, causing him to glance back as well.

He's quick to shove you out the door, growling out a demand, "Go. Find a car. We're right behind you."

As much as you didn't want to leave them you'd never heard Chan speak to you like that before and your body was on autopilot, listening to what he told you to do right now. Searching outside before finding a somewhat trashy car abandoned between the fence and a rotted out shed. It didn’t matter much what it looked like though as long as it ran well enough to get you all to safety. Wasting no time you run over, yanking open the rusty driver’s door. Sliding in you scour the area for keys, thanking the heavens when you drop the visor and they fall into your lap. Wishing with all you have as the car stalls that you’ll get lucky again. You pause for a moment, before trying again as you see Chan helping Changbin out the door, followed by Hyunjin. Right as panic was setting in the car roared to life, letting you pull forward to let the other get in.

“Drive. I’ll guide you straight to the hospital. Don’t stop for anything. I’ve called it in, so we should be getting an escort meeting up with us along the way.” Hyunjin tells you his arm out the window, firing at the house still.

You waste no time peeling out, following Hyunjin’s direction until the flashing lights of cop cars end up ahead of you and lead the way themselves. Pulling into the ER in a flurry of chaos. You and Chan try to follow Hyunjin and Changbin in, only to have cops stop you, insisting on taking you to a new safe house.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know he’s going to be okay. Besides. Do you even know how they found the last safe house? Until you know I’m just as safe here as I would be at a safe house.” You counter, holding your ground with a stern look.

“We’re. I’m staying with her, and the detectives.” Chan adds, hand moving to rest on the small of your back and guide you through the group of officers and into the hospital.

You sat waiting in the room with Hyunjin and Chan, staring down at your hands still waiting for word from the surgery Changbin had been in to remove the bullet and repair the damage. Chan’s hand sliding over your shoulder as he offers you a cup of coffee.

“I have a feeling you won’t really be sleeping much tonight, so you might need this.” Chan’s voice is soft, his gentle side showing through again and it almost brings you to tears. Looking between him and Hyunjin who both seem rather calm, nursing their own cups.

“How can you be so okay right now? We don’t even know if he’s going to be okay.” You whimper. Chan shushing you as his arm slips further around your shoulders pulling you closer to him, his warmth surrounding you like a blanket.

“As much as it sucks...what’s happened, happened. There’s no changing it now. We have to live with it now, there’s no other option. It’s hell, but you get used to it...well in your case I hope you never have to, but some of us get used to it.” Hyunjin sighs softly, looking down at the black liquid in his cup as he swirls it, “As for Changbin, he’s gonna be okay.”

“How can you be sure?” You ask, Chan, rubbing away your tears almost as quickly as they’re falling.

“Because...it’s Changbin...and because he has to be okay.” Hyunjin gives you a small forced smile, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself along with you.

Your shoulders slumped, bag dropping to the ground as you and Chan entered the safe house. Hyunjin trailing behind as he checked the perimeter once again.

Changbin looks up from his spot on the couch and chuckles softly, “The day went that well huh?”

You sigh shaking your head, “Did you hear the verdict yet? The judge had us leave before they went into deliberation so that hopefully we could get through the crowds and back here quicker. Even out the back way though it took us an hour to even get past the protestors...I was really worried...I expected more people to be there for hybrid rights, but it seems like everyone was on the opposite side today.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be there with you guys today. After the second day, the judge said they wouldn’t need me anymore and that I should rest instead.” Changbin frowns, “People were supporting hybrid rights though, they were just on the opposite side of the street. So they must not have been visible the way you went out...they were certainly much calmer than everyone against them anyways. I’m glad you guys got back okay.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “Next time, I’m the one taking the bullet.”

“Oh don’t worry there won’t be a next time.” Chan shakes his head lightly, heading to the kitchen to get you both some water, “How’d the physical therapy go today Changbin?”

“Average for physical therapy...it’s hell in the moment, but after a bit, things go back to normal.” Changbin shrugs as Hyunjin joins you three inside. His radio is going off as the station contacts him.

“Turn the TV on, they’re about to announce the verdict,” Hyunjin informs the rest of you.

You go to stand by Chan’s side as he puts down the bottles, turning to look at the television from his place in the kitchen. Changbin quickly turned it on and changed the channel to where they’d be able to get the announcement. Your hand clutching Chan’s tightly, gnawing at your lip. Finally releasing your breath when the guilty verdict was announced, most of the group getting a sentence of twenty years to life, a few with less or opportunity for probation. That would be something to take care of when the time comes though, for now, the fact was that they couldn’t get to you, Chan, or any of the other hybrids now.

You throw your arms around Chan before realizing what you were doing. He’s quick to slip his own arms around your center though as if it was the most natural thing for the two of you to do. Chan nuzzling at your hair taking in your scent, one of his biggest comforts since all of this started. Before he’s pulling back to look into your eyes, brushing your hair out of your face.

“You’re safe now! And free!” You beam up at him, a few tears of joy glittering in your eyes as he smiles back at you.

“No we’re safe now, and free to do whatever we want without worry or looking over our shoulder.” Chan’s eyes never leave yours as he finds himself leaning in.

His eyes flick down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. His lips brushing against yours as he pauses for a moment, searching for any hesitance from you. Instead, you close the last of the space keeping you apart, pressing your lips against his. A kiss he’s been waiting for...that you’ve both been waiting for, and now that it’s finally here neither of you is holding back any longer. Chan’s lips devouring yours, craving more of your taste already. The two of you pulling away only to breathe, not even care about your audience currently. Panting as you look wordlessly at each other, cheeks flushed with heat.

“Two down, just one to go. Afterward, you’ll be free to do that in public too.” Hyunjin chuckles as you and Chan finally look to the two detectives whose eyes long left the television in favor of you.

“I’m not worried about it...I have a good feeling about all that’s to come.” Chan honestly responds before beaming at you again, “Especially some things.”

You didn’t like sitting behind Chan in the courtroom for a change. You didn’t necessarily like sitting in the courtroom at all, but at least beside him, you could hold his hand as some form of comfort. Felix glances at you from his spot beside you, gently grabbing your hand to give it a small squeeze.

“He did really good, and he’s fine even with you back here. I’m sure it’ll be a good verdict.” Felix whispers his assurances to you. Chan’s ears twitch as he picks us the conversation and glances back at you, winking at you with a small smile.

“You helped out a lot too Felix. I don’t think we would have been able to do this without you, especially when you were a good example up on the stand. So thank you.” You squeeze his hand back, making him shrug.

“Hey, anything for family. Though now that you guys are like family I hope you know you’re stuck with us now.” Felix giggles making the others agree quietly.

“For good at that.” Jisung adds chuckling softly, “But you two better quiet down, the judge is coming back.”

You’re rigid, but also practically trembling in anticipation as you wait to hear the court’s decision. Knowing that no matter what you’d always stand by Chan’s side, yet wishing for a positive answer for his sake either way.

Jeongin cleared his throat, pausing as he always did before announcing the verdict, “This court has decided after deliberation to grant Bang Chan full citizenship and rights. If he so chooses to legally change his name from what was given to him in a hybrid facility he can do so at the same time as he signs the citizenship papers. This court is dismissed.”

Felix hugs you before helping you make your way up to where Chan is, “ Congratulations. We’ll see you this weekend for a proper celebration, but until then you two have fun...and be safe.”

You playfully smack his arm at his suggestive teasing, “Whatever. We’ll see you guys this weekend. Be careful getting out of here, it’s crazy outside.”

The others nod as you move to Chan’s side, hugging his side as he looks over the papers. Changbin and Seungmin there as witnesses to sign the papers in addition to Chan and the judge.

“Congratulations. Is there a new name you’d like to legally have?” Jeongin inquires pointing to the blank area where Chan could put in whatever name he’d like to take on.

“Christopher. Christopher Bang.” He smiles at you knowingly as he writes it down before they finish signing everything.

You both shake hands with the judge as he congratulates you both again. Before doing the same with Seungmin, thanking him excessively for all he did to help you both.

“Alright, let's finally get you two home again...it’s been a long month.” Changbin chuckles, leading the way to the car that already had all of your stuff in it, ready to be taken back into your apartment once again.

The car took quite a beating on the way out. Those against the decision throwing things at it in protest, until those who were there in favor of equal rights for hybrids stepped in to help your car safely get out and away from the irate group. Your head falling to rest on Chan’s shoulder relieved that all this was finally over and went well so that you could be home and back into your routine once more. Though no doubt with a few changes now too...not that you’d give them up for anything.

The drive took longer than expected, but you made it nonetheless. Kicking off your shoes as you step into the familiar and yet somewhat forgotten home. Stepping deeper into it knowing that Chan was following behind, stretching and checking your phone that was now in your possession once more. Eyes still glued to it as you turned around towards Chan again.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” You question scrolling through apps for your favorite takeout places.

“I know what I’ll be having,” Chan growls out, in the same voice he had when he told you to leave the safe house. The voice that lit a fire in your gut and had your eyes snapping up to meet his darkening ones.

You don’t get much time to read the feelings filling his eyes though before he takes your phone and puts it aside so as not to distract you anymore. Closing the little gap remaining with a searing kiss. Not having any patience or games, having waited long enough for you by now. Something your heart, mind, and body wholeheartedly agreed with as you feel your arousal starting to pool between your legs. Chan easily picks up the scent of it and nips somewhat harshly at your lower lip with a rumbling growl.

Chan’s arms slip around you and lift your, heading back towards the bedroom, “Fuck, I’m so glad this isn’t illegal anymore...not that it would have stopped me anyway, but still.”

Your giggle is cut short by his lips finding yours again. This kiss is much shorter than the last, but not less heated. Simply ending when Chan tosses you back onto the bed, crawling over your form as his eyes take you in.

“Remind me why we didn’t do this sooner? It’s obvious we both wanted it.” Chan’s question is wanting an answer, yet he’s not making it easy for you to give it as he nips over your neck soothing the little marks with his tongue and lips.

“Because...because we weren’t alone...the others were right outside the room and could have come in at any time.” You pant, already getting more worked up by his actions. Chan’s growl turns into a chuckle as he notices your legs spreading on instinct, already so eager despite still being fully clothed.

“You say that like I would fucking care. I didn’t care if they heard...or saw because at the end of the day you’re mine and it would have just proved that to them...besides I might have been gentler if I had not had to hold back for so long. I don’t know that I can anymore though.” Chan’s teeth are still against your throat, drawing out soft mewls from your lips and teasing you by rutting his clothed bulge against your thigh.

“Then don’t hold back. You’re always talking like you’re the big bad wolf and like I should be so scared of you, so show me what the worst you can do is.” You taunt knowing him well enough to know that just that little bit will be all it takes for him to fully snap.

His hands gripping onto the hem of the dress you wore to court today, ripping it down the middle with no concerns other than getting to your skin beneath it. Giving you no time to argue as he nips over your chest now. Your hands are moving to try and work on pushing off his suit jacket and gripping at his hair.

Chan pulls away snarling at you and pinning your hands, “I don’t think so kitten. You made me wait, so now it’s your turn to wait. And it would be in your best interest to do so too, cause little disobedient kittens don’t get what they want.”

If the scent of your arousal building at the way he grumbled out that threat didn’t give you away to him then the growing wet patch on your panties certainly did. Chan licks his lips and smirks softly at you before deciding to make things a little more challenging for you, tossing his jacket aside. His tie, however, he lays close by on the bed for when you inevitably snap and disobey him. He tugs his shirt off next, with almost as much force as he had your dress, sending buttons flying across the room. His mouth on your chest again, hands gripping firmly at your sides for a moment before trailing up over your form to remove your bra.

Chan pinches one of your pebbled nipples, earning a quiet hiss from you, “Hm so sensitive for me, aren’t you? Trust me you’ll only be getting more sensitive as the night goes on.”

He nips at your other nipple, before suckling softly, fingers eager to give your other nipple equal pleasure. His eyes locked on your face for a reaction as he switches sides, growling in his chest around your nipple when he watches your hands moving down towards him again, his only form of warning to you.

Chan knew if he kept it up though it would only be a matter of time before you gave in and touched him again. He was counting on it. Trailing his mouth lower as his hands ripped your panties off and out of his way. Tongue darting out to flick over your clit, raising a brow at you as your legs fall open and hips twitch up towards his mouth. His hands are quick to hold you firmly in place before fully pressing his face against your core, tongue curling deep into you with little growls and grunts sending vibrations through your core. Chan intent on getting every drop of you on his tongue as he possibly could even as your arousal builds more and more, slicking up his face.

He’s mildly impressed at the fact that you manage to keep your hands to yourself even while trembling in need on the precipice of your impending orgasm. It only encourages him to go harder though, sucking on your clit as he suddenly presses two fingers into you, curling them perfectly against your spot. What finally sent you over that blissful edge though was when his teeth grazed over your clit with the tiniest bit of pressure.

Through your fucked out haze of pleasure you didn’t realize you’d reached down and weaved your hands into his hair until a few moments after Chan had helped you through your release. Looking up at you all too pleased with himself at getting you to finally snap and touch him again.

He grabs your wrists and moves your hands away from him again, “I warned you kitten, now get on your hands and knees.”

“But Chris-” Your whining gets cut off with a sharp cry as he swats at your thigh.

“No buts, now do it before you get yourself into more trouble kitty,” Chan growls, this time it’s a bit more playful though. Letting you know this had been his plan all along and things were going exactly how he’d hoped.

His fingertips tap down your spine as his other hand grabs the tie he’d laid aside. Before doing anything else though his hand crashes down on your ass, hard enough to leave a lasting sting but the pain bleeds into pleasure and it makes him snicker when he can tell you liked it. His hands gripping your wrists to bring them behind your back and tie them together with his tie.

“Filthy little kitten, now you have no choice but to listen.” Chan taunts spanking the other cheek now, before kissing over the sensitive flesh before biting instead.

His desire to fuck you senseless is on the verge of driving him to insanity, but now that he’s had a taste of you he won’t be satisfied unless he makes up for all the previous times he’s wanted a taste of you too. His hands gripping your ass and spreading you open more to give himself unrestrained access to you. Not wasting another second before his mouth is on your core again. Using to his advantage every sensitive spot he learned from your first orgasm while also looking for more to bring you to your next. Pulling away after that one to lap up what he’d missed that had dripped down your thighs, knowing he wouldn’t have the restraint to hold himself back for much longer. He was sure he’d be able to bring you to a third orgasm before that little thread of restraint left snapped though. The determination makes him return to your core with fervor. Like a man starved...which in a way he had been, just not starved of food, just of you.

You’re still trembling from your third and latest orgasm when you hear shuffling behind you before his tip is running through your folds. Collecting your wetness before pushing in as slowly as he can bear for your sake, wanting to let you adjust and not hurt you. His hands gripping at your hips before moving, slowly at first, once he hears your soft moans starting to fill the room, however, he picks up the pace. His hips slapping against your ass, watching the way it moves and enticing him to spank you again. The action makes you clench around him, crying out and clawing at the tie around your wrist at his hard thrusts and the way his hand meets your ass, making him quickly repeat the action, growing out as you clench around him again.

“Fuck...you’re so fucking perfect....so filthy and you love how I’m treating you right now don’t you kitten? Go on, scream my name, let everyone know how good I’m treating you.” Chan grips at your bound wrists, pulling you back into each of his thrusts. His other hand reaching around to rub at your clit, “Shit, you’re going to cum for me again aren’t you? Gonna cream all over my big fucking cock, huh? Do it kitten, but don’t think the night will be over just cause you do.”

This time when you cum Chan doesn’t slow down for a second, if anything he does the opposite. His hand leaves your wrists to slip around your throat and pull you up against his chest. Angling his thrusts to brush against your spot each time as he feels himself getting close to his own edge, but refusing to go over it without you cumming again too. His hips stuttering as he feels your pussy spasming around him on the brink of release once again.

“It’s okay, kitten. Let it go. You’ve done so good for me.” Chan whispers in your ear, nuzzled against your neck as he encourages you to fall into a world of pleasure one final time tonight. He bites down on your neck, roaring out against it as he cums shortly after, riding you both through your highs.

His hands carefully undo your bound hands as he gently lays you down on the bed, slipping away to go get a washcloth. He’s gentle as he cleans between your legs before grabbing a sweatshirt and some panties for you, in just sweatpants himself. Chan leans in gently stroking the hair away from your face, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll help you get cleaned up more later...for now though...how about we seriously think about dinner?” Chan chuckles before blushing a little, “Not that there’s really anything to talk about though...considering I already ordered your favorite. My timing is damn good too, I scheduled it for five minutes from now.”

You laugh, shaking your head slightly at him and playfully smacking his shoulder, “Five whole minutes? Hm you mean you had time to make me cum again and you didn’t?”

Your teasing makes Chan growl and playfully nip at your ear, “Careful what you say kitten, we still have a whole night at our disposal. Who said anything about stopping before sunrise?”

He gets up to go answer the door at the knock, winking at you before his eyes rake over your form again, licking his lips. You two would certainly be celebrating and making up for lost time tonight.

#bang chan smut #bang chan imagine #bang chan oneshot #bang chan x reader #christopher bang smut #christopher bang imagine #stray kids smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader

532 notes · View notes

mrs-gucci · 3 years ago

Note

I’m going to try come up with other ideas lol but these jumped out at me. I would absolutely use these for something! I’m saving them too because I just might!

But if you feel like it, these combined scenarios could be really fun for a sarcastic, grouchy ass Flip or Kylo AU. It could be anything from enemies to antagonists to the guy being in trouble with you currently from doing stupid shit and trying to make up with you! Anything you think!

your enemy has been badly wounded, and somebody needs to bandage them up, so you agree to help them, and suddenly they're shirtless, and you can't help but admire their body, something this cheeky motherfucker takes notice of

there's only one bed, but this time, they're arguing over who should sleep on the floor, which nobody agrees to, so instead they end up sharing, incredibly annoyed over having to share their space (it’s not like friends to lovers, in which they both awkwardly get into bed. this is straight up just. i will set this bed on fire if you don’t stay on your side)

The Longest Knight {Sir Kylo Ren x Reader}

author's notes: hello, hello! shannon, dear, you always seem to know what I'm in need of when you send requests in. I've been dying for an excuse to write some medieval/knight Kylo, and this fits in perfectly with that AU, so thank you! <3

**THERE ARE SOME DARK(ER) THEMES IN THIS STORY, BUT ONLY AT THE VERY BEGINNING (there’s an indicator of when the dark content ends, in bold, you can’t miss it). PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND TW’S BEFORE PROCEEDING!**

warnings: some angst. some gore. some fluff. smut. enemies-with-benefits. sex w/o feelings. kylo is a huge douche (but in, like, a lowkey sexy way).

tw's: (at the very beginning): dead bodies & blood, vivid depictions of wounds/injuries, brief depictions of battle, implied (battle-related) murder. mentions of sex work (later on in the story, not relating to the reader character).

word count: 4.4k

terms to know: loincloth: groin-covering cloth tied around the waist (literally just underwear). bedswerver: “adulterer” (an insult). mamillare: medieval breast band (bra).

When the sounds of marching footfall, deep cries of manly battle, and shod hooves pounding on the drought-hardened ground had ceased from the air, you saddle your horse and ride out to the far field of your property.

The putrid smell of rotting flesh hits you before any bodies are even in view. Your prized stallion slows his trot, nostrils flaring and ears perked forward as the scene of battle presents itself to both of you.

He begins to snort and whinny in acute panic at the sight of so many corpses, both human and horse. Your stomach begins to churn, and you can barely bring yourself to look upon the scene as your heel encourages him onward, wanting to make sure there aren’t any surviving soldiers.

Both sides seem to have suffered great loss, although you’re unsure which corpses belong to which side. The conflict betwixt Alderaan and Naboo has been dragging on much too long, and at the end of the day, is any conflict truly worth all of the lives lost?

You certainly didn’t think so, but perhaps you’re just too close to this war, incapable of having an unbiased opinion due to the loss of your beloved husband at the hands of Sir Kylo Ren, the Alderaanean calvary general and the most feared man across all five kingdoms.

As you make your rounds to check for survivors, much to the dismay of your steed, you quickly lose almost all hope that anyone laid here ended up surviving the brutality apparently brought down upon them during the fight.

Suddenly, your horse lifts himself up on hinds legs ever so slightly, jogging in place as a barely-audible groan comes from one of the men. His hand moves ever so slightly, and you quickly rush over to him, dismounting with a small first aid bag.

His helmet is that of a high-ranking official, but on which side he belongs, it’s too hard to tell. Not that it truly matters, you’d take just about any man with the courage to fight these battles.

“Sir?” You say, kneeling down beside the large man. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

He grunts lowly, winter-chapped lips opening in an attempt to speak. “S-Stomach.”

Once your mind registers his husky words, you look down at his abdomen and see that his armor seems to have been compromised in a spot right on the side of his stomach. Fresh blood seeps from the deep wound, and you cringe, grabbing one of the towels from your pack to gently wipe away some of the blood, but the tear in flesh is so deep, it’s impossible to do with just one towel. **dark content warnings ENDS**

“My estate is just a short ride from here. I cannot hold your weight myself, but if you can mount my horse, I will take you back and mend your wounds to the best of my ability.”

The mask nods softly, slowly but surely lifting himself up off the ground, wobbling towards your horse, who snorts nervously. He seemingly understands the severity of the situation, though, and stands still as the knight sits himself on his back.

From there, he lays back, breath catching in his throat as his injuries are tweaked with each of the horses’ strides. You hold onto the reins, leading your stallion back to the house.

After quite a bit of maneuvering and a lot of quarreling with the injured knight, you finally manage to set him up the cot in your spare bedroom. He sits down on the chair as you do so, mumbling and grumbling about his pain. You found it quite annoying, really, but you can’t really blame him for acting in such a way.

“You’ll need to remove your armor, sir. I cannot treat your wounds with it on.”

“By God’s bones.” He curses under his breath in annoyance, but stands and removes his body armor nonetheless.

Piece by piece is peeled from his body, his physically intimidating figure revealed slowly to your curious eyes. Only his under-layers were left, soon enough, and you found it a bit odd that he hadn’t taken his helmet off first. You would think that would be a great relief to have the proper air exposure on your face, but you’re not really in a place to make assumptions about that sort of thing.

His brilliantly alabaster skin is severely bloodied, bruised, and badly butchered. He would require quite some time to heal and recover, but if you learned anything from being married to an army man, it’s that they’re all stubborn bastards who never take the proper time to allow time for their bodies to properly heal.

He’s soon fully exposed to you, minus his helmet and threadbare loincloth, and you have to look away quickly as your cheeks heat up. The small garment left very little to the imagination, and this knight was...well endowed, to put it kindly.

Putting your own personal feelings aside for the betterment of the patient, you look back up at him with a small smile. “You may remove your helmet now, good sir.”

“I cannot reach up to grab it from my head.” He says in a flat, unamused voice.

“Of course.” You scold yourself for not thinking of that. “Well, if you lay down on the cot, I shall remove it for you.”

Instead of protest, which is what you expected, he complied with your instructions and laid down on the cot. He grunts satisfyingly at the comfort of a mattress, most likely used to sleeping on the ground.

When you reach for the bottoms of his helmet to pull it off, he suddenly snatches your wrist, stopping you instantly.

“If you need touch me, ask before doing so.” His voice is nothing more than a growl.

You almost roll your eyes, starting to truly become annoyed with this knight. You invited him into your home and you’re willing to be his bedside nurse...and he has the audacity to request something like this.

Again you’re forced to put your personal feelings aside for the sake of your patient and for the maintenance of your bedside manner, forcing a smile onto your face. “With all due respect, sir, I’m your nurse for the time being. I will be needing to touch you quite often. Am I really expected to ask each and every time?”

“Yes.” He replies.

Your jaw clenches and you wish nothing more in this moment than to smack this man right across the face.

“Fine. May I please remove your helmet?”

Sparing you the assurance of a vocal reply, the mask simply nods, and you pull it over his head. When the face of your patient is revealed to your eyes, you’re appalled.

It’s Sir Kylo Ren...the man that murdered your husband.

You drop the helmet onto the ground, metal clattering as it rocks back and forth once it’s settled in one spot on the hardwood. This can’t be real.

He snarls. “Why are you looking upon me with that expression? Have you never seen a man before? I have wounds that need tended to, girl, and I’d like to be out of here before sundown.”

Anger begins to boil your blood, tears burning in your eyes as you look down at the man before you.

“You bastard.” Your hand raises, ready to strike him clean against the cheek. He catches your fist in his hand before you can, though.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” Kylo warns, squeezing your fist. “I’ll have to have you beheaded for hitting an army man, and your head is much too pretty to be put to such waste.”

You snort, yanking yourself from his grip, teeth gritting as you walk out to fetch all the medical supplies. He’s wearing a cocky expression when you walk back in.

“I recognize you.” He says.

You huff, unamused. “How could you possibly recognize me? We’ve never met.”

His lips curl up into a devious smirk. “You’re right, we haven’t met before, but I recognize you from your husband’s description. I asked him what you looked like, since he was babbling on and on about you.”

You freeze up, bottom lip beginning to quiver as Sir Kylo continues.

“Then I drove my blade straight through his pathetic chest, and later that night, I touched myself as I thought of you.”

He chuckles deviously.

“Bedswerver!” You yell, cocking your fists once more and lunging at him, ready to strike once more. But then, you stop yourself, knowing the consequences you’d surely face should you actually hit him.

Your fists lower and you simply say nothing, preparing the cloths in the warm water. The tears run down your cheeks on their own volition, but you quickly wipe them away before turning back towards him.

“He wasn’t worthy of your company, Y/N.” Kylo says as you begin to clean the wounds on his stomach. “And he clearly didn’t satisfy you in the way you needed, considering the manner in which you looked over my body when I took my armor off.”

His hand reaches around and squeezes your ass, making you jump.

“How long has it been, little lamb? A young woman like you shouldn’t have to live without a man to satisfy her aching need.”

You can’t pretend that you’re not aroused by his words, by his touch. But you’d never let him have you, not in a thousand years. So, you quickly swat his hand away and continue cleaning his wounds. “That’s none of your concern, Sir Kylo. I am perfectly content without a man and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

He laughs. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I bet you’re aching right now, just from my words and my simple touch.”

Before he can touch you further, you back away, limbs trembling with anger and frustration. You dunk the bloody rag back into the bowl of water, ring it out a bit, then throw it onto his chest.

“Clean the wounds yourself, since you can obviously move your hands and arms perfectly fine.” You say, wiping your own on a dry cloth. “I’ll be back to bandage you in a bit.”

“Don’t think of me too much, lamb. You’ll release too quickly.” He snickers as you slam the door shut behind you, bursting into tears the moment you step foot into your bedroom.

You sob quietly, the freshly-healed stitches of your heart popping open one at a time, the grief and pain of losing your beloved consuming you once more.

And now you’re here, mending his killer.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes everything you have, every ounce of willpower, to wake up and face Sir Kylo every single day. You know you’re doing the right thing by helping him, but that doesn’t make dealing with him any easier.

He’s impossibly stubborn, arrogant beyond comprehension, and increasingly grumpy. But, you just have to keep going, keep pushing through, reminding yourself that each day brings you closer and closer to his inevitable departure.

You’ve all but blocked out his inappropriate and antagonizing comments or remarks, just getting his bandages replaced and then leaving the room as quickly as possible.

Today, though, he’s achieved a new level of jackassery, a thing you thought impossible until he did it. And boy, did he do it.

“I’ve made arrangements for a few whores to come and provide me some...company.”

Your fist tightens around the bandage in your hand. He smirks.

“You’re more than welcome to join us. There’s plenty of me to go around, little lamb. You’ll get your turn.”

“No, thanks. I think I’d rather stab myself with a sword.” You reply, beginning to switch out his bandages. “You’re lucky I’m even allowing it to occur in my house.”

He just chuckles. ��You’d probably be bad, anyway.”

You suddenly rip the bandage off of his skin, causing him to cry out in pain. He looks at you, and you glare down at him. “Just...can you please just stop talking for once in your life? Must you always berate me when all I’ve done over the past few weeks is take care of you? Is this what kindness, genuine kindness, gets me?”

He suddenly seems to sober up, to let what he’s done to you sink in. It doesn’t last long, but you still see it. Perhaps he does have the capability to feel at least some sense of remorse.

Kylo stays quiet for the rest of the time you tend to his wounds, and when you turn to leave, the two words you’ve been convinced are not in his vocabulary, come from the behind you.

“Thank you.”

This sliver of empathy is short lived, especially after the girls from the local brothel make their way up to his room.

“Oh! Oh! Sir Kylo!”

You shake your head, attempting to read in the study, which is located on the other side of house from the guest bedroom. Yet, their screams, cries and the various other lewd noises still manage to make their way to your ears.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” “Take it, whore, take it!” “Kyloooooooo!”

The temptation to go up there and kick the girls out is increasing by the second, but you don’t. Maybe this will help mellow him out a bit, make him more manageable. Plus, you’re pretty sure that you’d have to carve your eyes out after walking in on whatever they’re doing up behind that closed door.

Unfortunately for you, it becomes progressively more difficult to focus on your book as the burn between your thighs intensifies. It’s been almost two years since your husband was murdered, which means that it’s been a little over that since you were last intimate with someone.

Normally, and up until Sir Kylo entered your household, you were more than fine subduing your sexual desires. You haven’t once touched yourself, not that you’d really know how to anyway, and you certainly weren’t about to start now.

You cross your legs, hoping that’ll quell some of the burning, but it only makes it worse. Another half an hour passes and your hand now rests on your thigh, slowly inching down towards your soaked and quivering pussy.

Just a quick touch won’t hurt...he doesn’t have to know...

Luckily, a knock at the door brings your motions to a stop. You sigh in relief, walking over to open the door. When you do, you’re met with a bandaged bare torso, a very muscular bare torso. His skin glistens with sweat and the smell of sex radiates from his essence.

He’s still breathing heavily as he stands in the doorway, looking down at you.

“We’re finished upstairs.” He says breathily. “I’m due for my afternoon bandage change, whenever you’re ready.”

You watch him saunter away, admiring the way his muscles stretch and tense with each stride. You’re burning up by now, both your skin and your arousal, and you wonder how you’re going to get through this next bandage change.

When you enter the room, the musk of sex is thick in the air, humidity at a suffocating level. You try to ignore it, try not to let it get to you, but it’s just surrounding you.

Your skin begins to glisten, brow furrowed as you focus on trying to change these bandages as quickly as possible. Kylo seems to take notice of your hurry, your sudden perspiring.

“Is something wrong?” He asks you, biting back a smirk. “You seem flustered.”

Nodding, you continue on with the bandaging. “I’m fine, just a bit warm is all.”

Kylo hums, reaching down to grab your wrist as you reach up to re-bandage the wound on his chest. He brings your fingers up to his lips, sucking the tips into his mouth gently, tongue swiping over the pads of your digits.

You try to pull away, to leave before you do something you regret, but his hold on you is firm. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t actually want him to stop.

Oh lord, this is bad. It’s so wrong. You shouldn’t want this. He murdered your husband, the man you loved. He’s so smug and cocky and yet...it’s what you’ve been wanting this whole time, the thing you’ve tried to suppress, to not let yourself want.

But now, everything else be damned, you want this. You need this. And damnit, you’re gonna have it.

His lips release your fingertips with a lewd pop! sound, an arrogant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You haven’t tried to pull away or tell me off in a minute or two. Is everything alright?”

You huff. “Just do it.”

He raises his eyebrows, sitting up a little. “Do what? What do you want me to do, little lamb?”

“You know what I want.”

“Oh yes, I’m fully aware of what you want.” He smirks. “But I want to hear you say it out loud.”

You cross your arms on your chest, trying to ignore the twang of guilt that shoots through you as you prepare to say the words aloud.

“Fine. I want you to f-fuck me.”

“That’s right. I knew you wanted it.” Kylo takes your hand and trails it down his muscular abdomen, stopping just above where his loincloth sits on his hips.

“Take it off.”

You’re chewing your lip numb as you reach down and undo the tie holding the garment on. Your breath hitches as you slide it off, exposing his member, which is hardening steadily.

“Instead of staring, perhaps you’d like to try touching it?” He smirks.

You shoot him a glare. “Stop talking, for once in your life, please spare my ears the sound of your constant squabble.”

Kylo chuckles, putting his hands behind his head.

Your hand wraps around the base of his length, and he grunts softly. It’s your turn to wear a smirk.

“Oh, do you like that, Sir Kylo?”

He huffs. “Every man likes their cock being touched. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

You squeeze his shaft, drawing a deep grunt from his lips and small buck of his hips. He looks away, jaw clenched in an attempt to prevent any further noises.

This fact only makes you more determined, hand pumping his cock with more vigor, alternating between different paces and pressures to really drive him crazy.

You’re thoroughly enjoying this, drinking in the sight of him trying his absolute hardest not to react to the touches that so obviously arouse him. You tease him even more, using your fingers to touch certain parts of his length.

Well, it’s fun for the few minutes it lasts, but suddenly, you find yourself in his position, laid back on the cot. He’s on top of you, now, pushing the skirts of your dress up, fingers yanking the laces on your bodice.

He quickly pulls it off, followed by your skirts, leaving you in only your mamillare and your loincloth. His eyes roam your newly exposed skin for a moment before his hand slips down between your thighs, fingers pressing up against the fabric.

“I knew it. Were you listening, little lamb? Were you listening to me fuck those whores and wishing it was you?”

Your breath hitches. “Well, it was sort of hard not to listen when the girls were screaming.”

His fingers wrap around the waist tie, pulling them down to fully expose your wet heat. He smirks, rubbing around until he finds that one spot that has your back arching and a gasp escaping your lips.

Before he can even say anything, you reiterate his words in a mocking tone. “Every woman likes being touched there. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

He huffs, rubbing you harder.

“Tell me how wet you got when you heard me fucking those whores. Tell me that you wanted a turn on my cock, wondered how good I’d feel inside you.”

“N-No.” You say, a stern expression on your face. “I’ll never say that to you.”

His jaw clenches as he bends down, lips next to your ear. “You'll be screaming it once I’m done with you.”

Your eyes widen when his fingers slowly press up into your entrance.

“Kylo...” You’ve never been touched in this way before. It’s...different, and not necessarily unpleasant.

He sees your hesitation. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

And you did.

His digits begin moving in and out of you, curling up occasionally to stimulate a certain tender spot inside you. You’re biting down on your lip, surely hard enough to break the skin, trying your darndest not to give him the privilege of hearing your noises.

As you did to him, seeing you suppress your noises only spurs him on more, movements becoming quicker, swifter. Your orgasm draws closer with each skilled stroke, but just before you reach your peak, he pulls out.

You thought you wanted to hit him before; now, you kind of want to pop some of his abdomen stitches.

“Why did you do that?”

He laughs devilishly, reaching down to pump his cock, slicking it with the juices of your arousal. “You didn’t think I’d actually let you get off that easily, did you?”

“Well, I was sort of hoping...”

You’re brought to silence when he crawls on top of you, trapping you beneath his massive form. His mushroom head swirls around your entrance, collecting some of your slick before pressing it inside of you.

It’s been quite a while since you’ve had anyone, and you don’t think you’ve ever had someone of his size before, so you gasp softly as he presses forth. Soon, his entire length is seated in you, stretching and filling you to the brim.

His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw clenched as he tries to remain still in order to allow you an adjustment period. Once you’ve had some time, he begins moving his hips, rolling them at a steady pace.

“Knew you’d have a nice little cunt,” He growls, teeth baring. “So wet and tight for me, little lamb.”

You bite your numbing lip in an attempt to prevent any of the desperate moans or cries that want to escape. He’s doing something similar, jaw clenched tightly.

Only the wet squelch and sharp snapping of skin colliding can be heard between the two of you, minus the occasional grunt or sharp inhale from either of you, which is quickly shut down almost as soon as it slips out.

Soon, you feel your climax begin to appear on the horizon, walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. He takes notice, quickly speeding his rhythm up, exhaling loudly through his flared nostrils.

He’s getting close, too, balls pulling up as his body prepares itself for orgasm. The energy between you two, as well as your physical movements, quickly turn desperate.

“Don’t release inside me.”

“I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to.” He says, smugly.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “I see that even the throws of passion and ecstasy is still not enough to tamper your unbearable attitude.”

“There is nothing that can stop me from taking the opportunity to get a rise out of you, milady.” He smirks before his brows knit in the center of his forehead. “If you’re gonna cum, I suggest you do it s-soon.”

Your eyes flutter shut, hips attempting to lift up off the mattress, wanting him to hit that certain spot inside you. As soon as you find the right angle, a choked sob leaves your lips as you’re quickly brought and tossed over the edge.

Kylo groans softly, thrusting rapidly before pulling out at the last minute, spilling his seed all over your abdomen.

Both of you are breathless as you ride out your climaxes, basking in the peaceful bliss that washes over your body, basking in the luxury of his utter and complete silence. It was a welcome change, a much-needed reprieve from the past few weeks of dealing with him.

He eventually flops down onto the mattress beside you, grabbing and re-securing his loincloth around his hips. You’re already a bit sore from being stretched for the first time in two years.

“May I just sleep here tonight, Sir Kylo? Unless you’d like to carry me back over to my bedroom.”

The side-eye he gives you is incredibly humorous, but you contain your laughter, not wanting to add oil to the flame.

“I won’t be a bother. I will stay on this side of the cot; you’ll barely even know I’m here.”

“Are you truly incapable of walking yourself back to your bedroom after one session of fucking? Was I really that amazing that I’ve left you unable to move about the house?” He laughs.

"And suddenly, the pain of walking over to my room seems less painful than staying here and listening to your vexing squabble.”

Kylo huffs. “If you stay here for the night, you may not breach the center of the mattress. I will kick you out if you even come close to bumping into me or making any sort of physical contact.”

Mocking his words from earlier, you smirk. “I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to touch you.”

“Very funny.” He says, flatly, rolling over to face away from you. “Just stay on your fucking side of the bed.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up to braid your hair for bed before fluffing the goose-feather pillow beneath your head, settling down for the night. Soon, Sir Kylo’s obnoxious snores bounce off the walls and you put your pillow over your head, hoping to muffle the noise.

God, even his snores are arrogant.

The next morning, when your eyes flutter open at the first sign of light through the window, you find the sheets next to you vacant.

You sit up, eyebrows furrowed as you look around the room, ears open to listen for any noise anywhere in the house. You don’t hear anything.

Then, you see a piece of rolled up parchment on his pillow along with a small satchel. When you open the pouch, you’re shocked to see a pile of shiny coins. You unrolled the note, reading the sloppy script.

For the medical supplies and for your trouble. Here’s hoping our paths never cross again.

-Kylo

As you read the very brief and to-the-point note, you can practically hear his snide voice in your head reciting it. The cold, cocky tone of his words shone through the parchment and ink, incredibly so. You huff, tossing the note back onto the pillow before getting up to begin the day.

Well...at least you’ll never have to see him again.

133 notes · View notes

x-childish-x · 3 years ago

Text

The Forgotten

Pairing: Loki Odinson x fem!reader

Fandom: Marvel

Warnings: violence, fighting, mentions of blood, anger, !Reader is given a default name of Angel based on appearance/species!

Word Count: 1,366

A/N: Hello everyone! While this isn't a request I really hope you enjoy this story. I've been doing a lot of research lately and this story is the result of that. Currently it stands majorly as a one shot, possibly a part two. However, I would be more than willing to turn this into a multi-chapter fic if you'd like. I hope that you all enjoy and remember feedback is always welcome and encouraged. (I'm sorry I couldn't get Bound for Error out on time, take this as a peace offering?)

Summary: A certain mischievous God lands on Sakaar, and you're called upon to show him to his room.

(gif not mine!)

Being summoned by the Grandmaster wasn't ever a happy deal. Normally, it meant imminent execution, a fight for your life, or being forced into yet another orgy. It was seldom that you would be summoned often only a handful of times every year. You'd lost track of the thousands of years you'd been there since your banishment, everything mushing into one long life you'd lost hope for.

Walking into his main hall, you watched with a smug smirk as the guards separated for you, allowing you to enter. Your eyes fell on a head of raven curly hair as you walked towards the Grandmaster. He sat casually in a guest chair, one that you or Scraper 142 would sit in when visiting the Grandmaster. He wasn't restrained or bound in any way, and it made you wonder who had brought him in. The older man smiled widely at you, clapping his hands together and dipping his head as you mocked his actions.

"Ah!" He cheered, "My sweet Angel, there's someone I'd like you to meet! This is Loki, King of Asgard! He came here off the Bifrost. I thought you might like to meet him!"

"I see where the nickname originates," A smooth, velvety voice filled the air as you turned around. His eyes followed not your body but the large, simmering, white wings that came from your back, "Given your wings and all. Truly, I've never seen a being like you, Angel."

A glare settled on your face as you sized up the man relaxing in one of the Grandmaster's guest chairs. Looking him over, you vaguely recognized him. Black hair, green and black leather with gold accents, of course, this was Odin's younger son. You remembered him vaguely, though he'd matured much more since you'd last seen him.

Sighing deeply, you spun back around, turning your back to the King as you spoke dully, "Of course you haven't, not with your father and such. I presume if you're King now, Odin's dead."

Your words seemed to strike Loki viciously, his face scrunching in slight pain at your bitter words. The Grandmaster seemed to notice your tension and immediately sucked in a loud, audible breath, followed by a short chuckle, "Ooohh! Right, right! Forgive me, Angel! I forgot what the dear Asgardians did to you!"

Your wings flexed outwards just slightly, teasing Loki, who was curious to their full size, "It's alright, Grandmaster."

"Well! Awkward," The Grandmaster laughed loudly, "Anyways! I wanted you to take him to his room while he stays here. I'm sure this new King of Ass-gard will be ever more kind than the last!"

"Asgard," Loki quickly corrected.

Reluctantly, with a swift nod at the Grandmaster, you set off, not wasting any time or sparing a glance at the King of Asgard. You grasped the key from one of the Grandmaster's many guards and gave them a harsh glare as they attempted to step closer to you. You walked away quickly, hearing muffled words being exchanged, before a rush of feet following after you. You brought your wings in closer to your back, resisting the urge to draw your sword and slit Loki's throat right then and there.

"So," The King started, a smirk sliding onto his face, "How'd you know my father? He appears to have done something terrible for you to hate him so."

"You'd surely love to know, wouldn't you, Loki?" You smiled sweetly before glaring at the man walking alongside you. You quickly decided you had no intentions of falling for the God of Mischief's tricks, "You've grown quite a bit, though I'd say I imagined you ending up bulkier. Well, what happened to your brother? Go on. I imagine you're dying to tell the story of how you became King, over him."

Loki was beyond shocked at your words. You appeared to know much more about him and his family than he would've liked and... you imagined him bigger?

"How have you seen me before, witch!?"

A laugh left your lips at Loki's grip on your arm and his dagger at your throat. It appeared the rumors were true. Odin had erased the Asgardian's memories of the Angels. You moved quickly, all too quick for Loki as you twisted lowly, swiping his feet out from underneath him and flipping over his falling body. Your hand slipped to grab his dagger as your dominant hand unsheathed your sword, aiming it at Loki's throat as your foot rest on his chest now.

Loki's wide eyes met yours as he gasped for breath, "What would your mother say of your rude manners, Friggason?"

"She's dead," Tears filled Loki's eyes as he muttered those two words, watching you carefully.

Your wings ruffled as you stepped back, a look of pain flashing through your eyes before you slipped your sword into your thigh scabbard. You dropped Loki's dagger and quickly began walking towards his room once more. Frigga was dead? How? Your heart ached slightly at the pain of knowing that the only Asgardian who was nice to you was gone, resting peacefully on Valhalla.

You heard Loki scramble around, groaning quietly at the pain from your swift moves before rushing to join you once more. Before the mischievous God could strike up another conversation, you arrived in his quarters. Wordlessly showing him how the key works, you slipped into his room, holding the door open and allowing him in. You watched as he looked around, assessing the area and determining if the place was fit enough for a King.

Tossing the key towards his bed, you turned to leave as Loki spoke up, "One last question."

Rolling your eyes, you paused, glancing over your shoulder with a raised eyebrow, "Go on."

"Suppose I wished to return to Asgard, how would I leave?"

A smile rose to your lips as you proceeded to walk out the room, "You don't."

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

"Valkyrie."

The younger girl nodded her head at you, a slight grimace on her face, "Angel."

"I suppose you've heard of your precious Asgardian that showed up."

Your voice was bitter, laced with anger and hatred, earning yourself a glare from the drunk girl as she spoke up, "I have. Though I hear he's a bit high maintenance."

Tilting your head at the girl as you leaned against a pillar, you couldn't fight off your mocking smile, "Aren't you all?"

Valkyrie huffed, moving on from the market booth she'd been at, "I swear, one day I will kill you."

"Can't tell you how many times I've heard that one."

You watched in satisfaction as the brunette-haired girl left, stumbling as she went. Slowly, your gaze shifted to the shop owner, who was currently throwing you an extremely dirty glare. You raised an eyebrow, sending yet another mocking smirk at the shop owner.

The man sighed, glaring at you as he dusted off some of the fruit, "Will you always sit here all day and scurry away my customers?"

"I can assure you I'll do my best to keep your earnings low, Bert."

A gentle, sardonic laugh fell from your lips as the bracelet around your wrist buzzed, shocking you ever so slightly. With a roll of your eyes, you leaped up in the air, your wings flapping elegantly as they propelled you upwards. Bert's now distant shouts were fading as you raced through the air towards the Grandmaster's palace. You zipped in, landing gracefully despite your speed.

"Angel! Gosh, I get chills every time you do that," The Grandmaster smiled, pretending to shiver, "Loki needs to be shown to the tailor and well, around our lovely town. I figure... you show him around, you skip a few of the tournaments. Win-win is all I see."

A frown fell upon your face, your hands twitching to draw your swords. As your glare intensified, you thought over how easy it would be. To remind the Grandmaster of who you were, what you were, of your past, and where you came from. Remind him that you could not be pushed around and would not be pushed around, but instead, you clenched your fists, letting out a sigh.

"I suppose I don't have a choice."

87 notes · View notes

hellowkatey · 4 years ago

Text

Febuwhump Day 10

Prompt: “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Read on AO3

Ghosts of the Past

"And med supplies?" Obi-Wan asks, glancing up from his datapad. "How are our bacta levels?"

"Good, sir," Cody nods.

"Yes, I suppose we've had a good streak going. Okay, now fuel levels?"

"Half tank."

"Weapons?"

"Forty units short, I believe."

Obi-Wan nods and types the order into the datapad.

"Alright, then the last things on the supply lists are..." he trails off as a strange feeling washes over him. He looks up, his eyes scanning the hanger. Troopers mill about in the usual bustle of days where there are no battles, just some administrative duties, and down-time. He can feel Cody staring at him, and is about to ignore the feeling when he spots a non-military ship on the other side of the hanger.

It's a modest ship, but it's not the vessel that is bothering him. Two mechanical troopers talk to a man standing next to the ship. From this distance, Obi-Wan can't quite see the man, but he can feel him.

In the Force, this person is familiar in a way that causes chills to run down his spine and the distant sound of bombs exploding to echo in his mind.

"Sir, is something wrong?" Cody asks, and Obi-Wan's head snaps back to him. He points across the hanger to a ship and a small group of humans talking to the mechanic clones.

"Do we have visitors?"

"Uh, diplomats I believe. Requested to land for maintenance on their cooling system. Is there a problem?"

Obi-Wan doesn't answer him, just hands him the datapad with the supply orders and starts to walk in their direction. He doesn't know what he hopes to accomplish he just... has to find out.

He weaves through the various groups of troopers, only giving himself time to nod as they salute in his presence. The closer he gets to the man the better his view gets and the greater the buzzing in his stomach grows. Though Cody described him as a diplomat, he isn't dressed as so. He wears modest travel clothes and boots that are nearly as beat up as Obi-Wan's. The only true indication that he is some sort of political leader is the golden pin that secures his dark green cloak.

The man brushes his fingers through his short brown hair, pushing it off to the side, his dark eyes flickering up to meet Obi-Wan's.

And he stops dead in the center of the aisle, his entire body feeling numb and his throat tight. He must look like he's seen a ghost because a moment later he feels Cody's hand gently touching him at the elbow.

"General?" Cody sounds worried, which is enough to get Obi-Wan to tear his eyes away from the face of a man who might as well be a ghost. He doesn't know what to say to his commander, who is looking back and forth between him and their guest.

A guest that just handed his datapad to the mechanical clones and now approaches them.

Obi-Wan generally considers himself well prepared for most situations that may be thrown at him. War has taught him a lot about always being ready for a fight or a hasty retreat, and how to properly read a situation to decide which is appropriate.

But now, Obi-Wan is at a loss. All he can do is stand there as a piece of his past he never thought would be dug up again walks right up to him.

"I take it you're the Jedi General," he says in a thick Outer Rim accent. "I thank you for your hospitality in allowing us to get repairs."

"It is fortunate we were on your route, I suppose," he smiles weakly. "Where are you coming from?"

"Right, I haven't introduced myself, apologies," he bows respectfully. "I am Representative Nield of Melidaan."

Nield. Oh, Nield. No wonder the Force felt so familiar and so heavy. He hardly looks different than he did three decades ago-- just a bit older, but time has been kind to him.

"Melidaan?"

"Outer Rim. We've avoided this war so far so I'm surprised you haven't heard of us... though that's not an invitation."

"Of course not. I just..." It's obvious Nield doesn't recognize him, and a part of him is hesitant to reveal his identity. They did not exactly part on friendly terms, and Obi-Wan doesn't have the same face he did when he was thirteen. But there is a curiosity there he can't help. He wants to know what happened after he left the Young in their victory. "I hadn't realized the name was changed."

Nield blinks. "What did you say your name was, general?"

The moment of truth. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Now Representative Nield looks as though he's seen a ghost. His jaw literally drops, eyes growing wide. He reaches out, looking as though he is going to cup his cheeks before resting on his shoulders and Obi-Wan sees Cody flinch out of the corner of his eye.

"Obi-Wan?" Nield says, barely above a whisper. Suddenly it is like they are thirteen again, two of the oldest among a group of children fighting for peace. "How the hell did they drag you into another war?"

__________

Cody watched as the men embraced-- Nield, he called himself. A political leader from Melidaan. Cody has never heard of that planet, but General Kenobi appeared to be familiar with it. Somehow he is also familiar with this Nield despite looking uncharacteristically petrified by his presence. It made Cody nervous that maybe this would be some sort of old enemy that they mistakenly cleared, but now that he examines the men talking quietly to one another, he realizes they look at one another in the same way his brothers do.

How the hell did they drag you into another war?

He didn't know General Kenobi had been in another war-- in fact, nothing in his knowledge of recent Republic history indicates there were any other major wars fought unless he found himself in a small scale one. Though, General Kenobi is often talking about how foreign it is to be a soldier when Jedi training is to be a peacekeeper. He has given no indication that he has a history of being a veteran, but it would explain how he is so skilled with battle strategy.

Cody thinks about this as he heads to the mess to find a cup of caff. It's late in the evening, but new orders have come in that he has to prepare for.

Unsurprisingly, General Kenobi seems to have come to the same conclusion. Cody finds him pouring his own mug.

"We seem to always be on the move," the general says with a weak smile as Cody walks up next to him to grab his own mug.

"Did they mistake us for General Skywalker again?"

He chuckles, moving out of the way so Cody can pour his own mug. "I believe Anakin and the 501st will also be joining us."

"Yes sir, I saw. Rex sent me a comm as soon as he found out."

"It's been a while since we've seen them, I'm sure the men will enjoy the reunion. Hopefully, we can get some more reprieve after as well."

They start walking back toward the briefing room, caff and a few ration bars in hand. Speaking of reunions...

"Was your visit with Representative Nield... enjoyable, sir?"

"I did not expect to see him again. The last time I saw him he was quite adamant about how much he hated me."

He looks at the Jedi with surprise. "I wouldn't have guessed, sir."

"We were young. Headstrong and passionate about what we believed in."

"You met him on Melidaan?"

"In a way," General Kenobi's pleasant disposition clouds. "Back then it was called Melida/Daan, though. I assume you heard him marvel at how I ended up in another war?"

Cody nods, suddenly feeling as though he is impeding on the privacy of General Kenobi's past. He opens his mouth to assure him he has nothing to explain and it is none of his business, but then the Jedi is talking.

"The Melida and the Daan were two groups on this planet stuck in a bloody civil war. They hated one another so vehemently they couldn't decide on a name for their planet, so the Republic eventually gave up and hyphenated. A Jedi was sent there to try and facilitate peace, but she was captured. Qui-Gon and I were sent to extract her."

General Kenobi stops outside the briefing room, leaning his back against the wall. "The Master was taken by a third group-- the children of the Melida and the Daan who were fed up with the fighting. They called themselves the Young. Nield was one of the Young, which is how we met."

"So the Jedi stayed to help?"

He tucks his arms into the billowing sleeves of his cloak, exhaling deeply "Not the Jedi, no. Qui-Gon had to get the injured Master back to the Temple, and we had no jurisdiction to fight their war. I was given a choice, and I felt my place was to help the Young."

There's a tightness to his words that doesn't go over Cody's head. His time in the war is obviously not something he has talked much about-- he's never even heard it referred to, and they are certainly in the context in which it would come up. Cody has learned General Kenobi isn't usually keen on talking about himself. He seldom mentions his master, and talks even less about his apprenticeship. He doesn't want to push the subject, but something is nagging at him...

"How old were you, sir?"

General Kenobi looks from the spot he fixated on behind Cody's shoulder to making eye contact. He doesn't say anything for a moment, and Cody has a horrible feeling about the answer.

"Thirteen," he mutters. Were the corridor not empty, he may not have heard it at all.

"Thirteen? They left a kid alone to fight a war?"

"I was one of the oldest among the Young, actually."

He says this as though that doesn't make things all the more horrifying. Cody feels bad enough when the shinies come through, barely ten standard years, but at least they have the bodies of grown men. But true kids? An army of children younger than Commander Tano?

"Pardon me for speaking freely, sir, but the Jedi allowed this? Your master let you stay in a war zone?"

"Well I..." he looks at Cody in a way he has never seen General Kenobi look before. There is this deep sadness behind his bright eyes that reminds him that he is not just a High General and a Jedi Master. "Cody, the choice I made was between going back with Qui-Gon, or leaving the Jedi Order."

Cody's throat goes dry. Suddenly his vague references to choices and the Jedi not being involved make sense, and dammit, he shouldn't have been so dense to make him spell it out. "I'm sorry. I didn't know..."

"Cody," General Kenobi says with a kind smile that Cody doesn't feel he deserves. "You couldn't have known. To be honest, and I'm not proud of it, not even Anakin or Ahsoka know."

"Sir, then why tell me?"

He shrugs. "I trust you with my life, commander, why not with my teenage war stories, too."

Cody is relieved to see a glimpse of the usual dry-humored General Kenobi coming back through, but he still is at a loss of words from all of this.

"In all seriousness," General Kenobi continues, "I don't often think about my apprenticeship. Anakin has me to remind him about all his embarrassing moments, but I usually don't have to face my past like I did today," he pauses. "Can I ask your advice, Cody?"

"I'm not sure what help I could be, sir, but sure."

"Should I tell Anakin about Melida/Daan?"

Cody is certainly not qualified to give padawan parenting advice, but the general doesn't seem to care. He tries to consider if he has any relatable experiences in his short life, but clones were not raised with such individualized instruction. But he does remember nights spent with his batchmates, talking about anything and everything to pass the time. And when he sees Rex again they will try to find a time to sit down with glasses of brew, talking about every dumb plan Skywalker implemented and how it somehow worked out for the best and continuing their count of stupidly self-sacrificing things Kenobi does that threatens to give the entire 212th a heart attack.

He always considered the Jedi to be like little families-- families that train each other to be excellent warriors, but families nonetheless. In a way, the clones have adopted that familial mindset as well. With the galaxy unsure of what to do with them, they at least have one another to get through it all.

So maybe he does know a thing or two.

"It can't hurt, sir. It's probably something Skywalker would want to know about."

"Oh yes," the Jedi Master muses. "He was outraged when he found out about the time got to ride a varactyl for a royal a hunting party."

Cody raises an eyebrow. "Sir?"

He smiles, shaking his head. "A story for another time, Cody."

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday10 #im sorry i didn't know #really going for the last minute aren't i #obi-wan kenobi #commander cody #i wrote as gen #but feel free to consider it codywan if you so desire

83 notes · View notes

daydreamed-snippets · 4 years ago

Text

The hero came out of nowhere, touching down on the rooftop with a thunderous boom, shattered the concrete, tossing stones, possibly bending the steel roof of the structure. The thief only had a moment to think, to close the roof hatch on his friend before the hero and kicked him into the lone structure on the roof: a small brick maintenance shed. His bag of loot went sprawling, forgotten near the roof hatch.

A gloved hand enclosed around his throat, dragging him from the crumpled heap on the ground and roughly pushing him against the hard brick surface. The thief’s ribs burned in protest,

cracking under the latent power of the hero before him, as his hands, by pure instinct, gripped the arm that held him there.

“You’ve become bolder these days, petty thief,” the hero said.

Shit.

The thief recognized this hero. Anyone could recognize this hero. The small bits of electrical energy escaping the tight curl of his hair, bounding down his forehead like a voltaic crown. The perfectly crafted white uniform, which gleamed in tandem with his pulsating power. He wasn’t just any old, sanctimonious hero spawned by the Covenant. No, this was the Golden Hero. The love child of Relictus City, copulating raw strength with an agility that mimicked those streaks of sparks. The poster child of the Covenant, and personal puppet of the Commissioner.

“Stealing from high-end retail stores doesn’t usually fir your m.o., now does it?” the Golden Hero continued, lightly caressing his thumb over the thief’s pulse, a sharp reminder to stay put. Like the thief was resisting at this point. He could barely get his toes under himself to keep from being choked to death. “What? Was robbing corner gas stations getting too mundane?”

“Get—off me!” the thief sputtered, coughing through the voice modifier in his mask—it sounding clipped and staticky. The modifier held, but the thief could hear traces of their own voice resonate beneath the automated one. It must have been damaged when the hero knocked his head into the brick building. The thief hoped it held out.

Ignoring his strangled outburst, the Golden Hero leaned in. “Give me your arm so I can scan for identification.”

Shit.

The thief’s mind spun like a top. No, they couldn’t get caught. Not at this stage in the game. Not when their friend, Eoin, clung to the rusted ladder that led to the roof, waiting for the thief to come and get him, to use his powers and teleport both of them to safety—loot in hand. That had been the plan anyway. How plans changed.

What do we do?

The voice was small in his head. Tentative. Scared. Eoin.

The thief had to concentrate over his rising hysteria to properly hear the telepath.

Stay still. The thief thought back. Don’t make a sound. I don’t think the Golden Hero’s noticed you yet, but we can’t risk it. I’ll create a distraction so you can go back down the ladder. You’ll have to find another way out.

What about you?

Good question. The thief tried to hide that part of his mind that lit up with dread. Eoin didn’t need to feel that. The telepath had already burned through his anti-anxiety meds earlier that day trying to stabilize himself after an episode. Hence the heist to steal jewelry so they could cover his prescription cost. He told Eoin not to come with him tonight, that he could handle it alone, but his friend was stubborn. Talking about a bad feeling or something, and the thief couldn’t say no after seeing him so distraught.

Looking back, the thief wondered if he should have just robbed a pharmacy instead. Granted, the security was usually much more substantial than a department store, but maybe he would have avoided the top tier hero. Still, if they pulled this off, and sold the jewelry, then maybe they would have enough left over to fill the cupboards with food.

Don’t worry about me. Focus on yourself. I’ll figure something out.

Maybe the thief could use his powers. Maybe he could jump, bend the folds of space, will his body to disappear and reappear like he’d done so many times before. Unlike others with similar powers, he didn’t need to look before he jumped. That was a luxury for those who had something to lose, for those who had something to hold onto.

He was sure he could jump to the hatch, grab the loot then teleport inside the building, on the platform under the steps. All he needed was a second. All he needed was to be faster than—

“Ah, ah, I wouldn’t,” the Golden Hero tsked, putting more pressure on the thief’s pulse. The latter’s ears rang high pitched as black crowded around the edges of his eyesight. “I don’t think you can teleport quickly enough before I crush your windpipe.”

“That’s…morbid. For a hero,” the thief choked out, trying to buy time. He laughed dryly, nervously, hoping his bravado wasn’t just surface deep. “So much for your perfect image.”

The Golden Hero paused, eyes narrowing. “You’ve been watching too much tv, petty thief,” he said slowly, almost puzzled. “We both know the media always downplays the more severe aspects of these battles. Though every citizen trusts us to use our best judgment however violent. The general public doesn’t need to know the gruesome details of our encounters. Now, pull your sleeve back. Slowly.”

The Golden Hero unlatched the scanner from his belt; government issued and handheld. Lowering his quarry a bit so he could stand flatfooted, the thief obliged hiking up his sleeve, smile going unnoticed as he held out his arm so that his wrist was showing.

Bare and unmarked.

The Golden Hero blinked for a moment, then, uncharacteristically, gently ran his gloved fingertips over the thief’s arm. The thief shivered at the unexpected contact and pushed down a wave of nausea when the hero’s fingertips scraped against a flap of artificial skin to cover the self-identifying or “SI” tattoo.

“Take. That. Thing. Off.” The hero growled. “Any more delays or ploys, and I’ll drag you back to the custody suite knocked out cold.”

Gritting their teeth, the thief ripped the piece off with his other hand, feeling the sting of the adhesive on bare skin, exposing the mark that every citizen received at birth. If the Golden Hero scanned his tattoo, then he would know everything. His age, his place of residence, what school he went to, absolutely everything.

Unless…

An idea flickered through his head, setting every part of him on edge. It was a risky move, but it may buy him time. It most certainly would give Eoin enough time to get out of there.

Get ready to move. The thief thought to his friend.

His held his breath as the hero scanned the code, device beeping as it analyzed. He had one shot at this. Placing both hands back on the hero’s arm, the thief waited for the hero to peer down at the device before putting his full weight on his arm, and bringing up his leg to kick the device out of the Golden Hero’s hand.

The scanner skittered over the rooftop, bouncing a few times before slipping over the edge of the building. Neither heard a crash. They were too far up, and the sounds of traffic below masked all other sounds.

The Golden Hero glowered at him.

“Ah, my bad,” there was a smirk in the thief’s voice. Some bit of relief flooded back into him. It felt like Eoin had taken that opportunity to run. He couldn’t feel his friend there like he did when they were close. The mental bond straining. This little stunt bought them some time at least. “Another time, then?”

“If only you were so lucky,” the Golden Hero gritted out. Shifting his stance. “We’ll wait here for the Covenant’s guards to collect you.”

“Like this?”

“Do you have a better idea?” he asked, but not really asked. Like how adults ask but weren’t really interested in the answer. “You won’t stay put unless I make you. And I’m not about to let you go.”

“Why do you care? It’s like you said. I’m a petty thief,” he said, trying to think of a next step. “Why’s the Golden Hero getting caught up with a gutter rat like me?”

“I want a win for once. An easy win. And tonight, you’re that easy win.”

They didn’t have anything to say for that.

“It’s nothing personal,” the Golden Hero continued. “The Commissioner has had his hands full lately.”

“With the Commissioner, it’s always personal,” the thief spat, “He ruins lives. What does he expect? Everything to be easy?”

“The Commissioner keeps criminals like you at bay. From further driving this city into the ground with your lawlessness. You steal and cheat and lie, and for what?” He gestures to the bag of stolen goods, “To get money for drugs? Weapons? Hookers?

“Fuck. You.” The thief spat through gritted teeth. “You don’t even know me. None of you heroes know us.”

“Us?” The hero sighed, easing up a bit but not letting go. The thief blanched. “Then take off your mask. Tell me your name.”

Wrong move. He let his temper get the best of him, and now the Golden Hero was studying him, securitizing him more closely than before. The thief felt exposed like his face wasn’t covered with a mask, nor his voice hidden behind autotune. If the Golden Hero wanted to drag that mask off his face, exposing the persona underneath there was nothing stopping him.

As if reading his mind, the Golden Hero reached towards his face. The thief desperately jerked his face away from that hand.

--And then they were pitched over, falling, the thief landing on his shoulder in a sickening crunch. He screamed in pain, clutching the shoulder. What happened? Was he just thrown to the ground? No, the thief cracked opened his eyes. The hero was on the ground too,

A prodding slipped into his mind. Eoin.

Run.

Searching madly for the one that threw the stone, the Golden Hero rose to his feet, his back to the thief. Taking the opportunity, the thief jumped, teleporting in short bursts over to the hatch, before reaching down and nabbing the loot bag. A jolt of pain ripped through him. The price of using his power while injured.

Where are you? The thief asked.

On the street. Come down to me. I can keep the hero busy.

Got—

The thief got knocked off his feet again. The Golden Hero was angry now, and that rage showed up in his fighting. Punching, kicking, the thief barely had the chance to reappear before having to disappear again to avoid being hit. In the fury of fists and teleporting, the hero’s gloved fingers managed to pinch the edge of his mask, and it slipped off with ease. The thief backed away in fright, trying to bring an arm up to cover his face. He didn’t dare take his eyes off the Golden Hero.

“Wait, you’re a—?” The Golden Hero started, but the thief didn’t hear the end of that question. With their last ounce of strength, they teleported over to the edge of the high rise and jumped off. Making a series of frantic teleports so the Golden Hero couldn’t track him, and to lessen the impact of their freefall, the thief ricocheted in midair until he collapsed in a back alley.

The last thing the thief remembers is Eoin finding him broken and battered in a pile of trash. Normally the thief would teleport them home, but he could barely stand, leaning most of his weight on Eoin. That's how they traveled back to their apartment high-rise, in stuttered steps, keeping mostly to the shadows, attentive but completely unaware of the hero following them.

#hero #superhero #writing #snippet #writblur #thief #teleport #teleportation #telepathy #friend #eoin #Golden Hero #Relictus City #not a prompt #its a start

41 notes · View notes

skyview-temple-spring · 4 years ago

Text

more writing! some AU stuff with Zelda & Ghirahim being idiots and Link and Fi having to deal with their shit. (prompt #7 from the same list I’ve been using) T for language (also on ao3)

Zelda trudged through the muddy Faron forests, weighed down by the monster of a sword strapped to her back. The rain was only a drizzle, but if they didn't get back soon the sky would open and they'd be drenched. Ghirahim would surely start complaining about rust, going on and on for hours about how his sword deserved to be treated and that Link never left Fi out in the rain and how Zelda was no better than Demise if she dared disrespect him in such a way—

They had to hurry.

"Bet you can't hit that tree from all the way over here."

Of course, that is not what they did.

"Oh, you are so on. I thought we had learned by now to never doubt my skills?"

"I'm just saying, visibility is not the best, it's dark and cloudy." Zelda shrugged, crossing her arms and leaning against a nearby tree.

Ghirahim sent her a glare, straightening himself up and summoning a glowing dagger. With a calculated flourish, he sent the blade flying into the misty woods, never breaking eye contact with her. Though the dagger had disappeared from sight, they heard it hit the tree with a loud thunk! a second later.

The sword turned to bow arrogantly to an unseen audience, gloating and making as big of a deal as he possibly could.

"Ha! Who's laughing now?"

"Kweeeee!"

"Oh, fuck me.”

Link lay cuddled up on his couch, curled beneath a fuzzy blanket as he watched the torrential downpour outside the window.

"The weather's getting really bad, should we be worried about them?" He wondered aloud, looking to Fi for an answer.

"20% chance they got lost. 30, maybe, one of them got hurt. 50 they've just done something stupid." Fi rattled off, much less precise than she used to be. After the downfall of the Demon King neither had been very keen to start fighting again, so once the surface had been rebuilt and a new class of knights entered the academy, they gladly let others take on some of the heavy burden of saving the world. The hero and his sword were content to explore the world below on their own terms.

This did not mean, however, their lives were not filled with danger and chaos on any given day.

The door slammed open and the raging wind swept inside, shaking the walls of their home and rattling the shelves. Link jumped up, hurrying to the girl cradling a brown and tan lump under her arm.

"Help?" Zelda called into the house, out of breath and sopping wet. Behind her stood the demon lord, just as soaked, and even more upset.

"What did you do..?" Link cautiously approached them, reaching out for whatever Zelda had brought into their home. She dumped the blob into his arms, turning to wrestle the door closed once more.

"Hello to you too, Link, and yes, we are okay, thank you for your concern." Ghirahim scoffed in his direction, but Link was preoccupied with the animal in his arms.

"Oh my goddesses, is this dead?"

Zelda had slumped onto the couch, dragging the other spirit down with her. Not waiting for a response, Link deposited the lump he was now able to recognize as a kikwi.

"I don't think so? We didn't see what happened, Ghirahim threw a knife into a tree and then we found him lying in the mud." She groaned, sprawling out over the couch with her head in Fi's lap. The sword didn't push her away, wet as she was, but didn't look too happy about it either.

"Yeah, well, if Mocha here hadn't gotten in the way—"

"It's Matcha, dumbass."

"The personal designation of this kikwi is Machi." Fi interrupted them, though the name of the kikwi didn't really matter as it was passed out on Link's floor, "Please refer to it by it's name."

"—he wouldn't have gotten hurt." Ghirahim finished, ignoring everything the other two had said. Link gaped at him, aghast.

"You killed him? "

"Who doesn't like a little murder to start their evening?" Ghirahim waved him off, sarcasm dripping from this words.

"We didn't kill him!" Zelda yelled from the couch, falling off a moment later with a loud thud. She popped back up in time to see Ghirahim poking the poor thing, nearly tackled by Link to keep him off.

"It's a plant, we can't have killed it anyway."

Zelda slowly turned to the demon.

"Do you think plants don't die?"

"You can't kill them."

"Yes, you can!"

"I think he means to say you can't murder them." Fi resolved, though she stayed in her place on the couch. "Murder is a term reserved for sentient life forms."

"Is it?" Ghirahim pondered, to the dismay of a very distraught Link. "That thing's barely sentient, but I would definitely describe it as murder if I actually killed him."

Fi, helpful as ever, chimed in with, "Murder has to be premeditated. Killing someone on accident would be manslaughter."

"Who says it was a accident?"

"I do, I was there!" Zelda piped up, "And he's not dead! He's sentient, too, non-sentient things don't scream when you stab them!"

"Fi's a sentient life form. I could stab her and I don't think she'd care."

"I would."

"Stop arguing over this and help me heal Mochi!" Link shouted over their argument, rifling through the cabinets for a potion.

"Machi." Fi corrected him.

Though he tried, it became clear no one was listening to Link. Ghirahim ignored his plea, continuing to argue with Zelda.

"Besides, your evidence is incorrect," He dismissed, turning to leave the dead (not dead!) kikwi. "Deku babas absolutely scream in pain and they're not sentient. They're plants, this thing is a plant, I didn't murder it."

"I can only verify with 30% accuracy that Machi is a plant."

"60/200 not plant still leaves, like, a quarter of a plant."

"No, that's not what I said." Fi sighed, growing exasperated. "I said I can only verify with 30% accuracy he is a plant. That does not mean he is 30% plant, 70% other. And for the love of Hylia simplify your fractions, you're killing me."

"Macho—"

"Machi."

"—doesn't seem to be able to answer us right now, so we'll have to solve this later."

Link hadn't bothered to pay attention to their discussion. He hadn't been able find a potion (he'd need to restock up in Skyloft. given how prone to injury the four of them were, to be without one was asking for trouble) and stopped his frantic searching, kneeling next to the kikwi to take time and find what was actually wrong with him. There wasn't any blood, there didn't seem to be any wounds. In fact—

"He's just passed out, you scared him half to death!" Link sighed, tugging the plant into his arms. "And it's going to be even worse when he wakes up, put him back where you found him!"

"No way am I going back out in that, I'll rust." Ghirahim whined, gesturing to the rain outside. Thrusting the dead weight into Ghirahim's arms, Link glared at the demon and effectively silenced his protests.

"Fine." He grumbled, much less argumentative than he used to be, and disappeared in a shimmer of diamonds.

"I told you we didn't kill him—hey!" Zelda reminded Link and Fi, but Link was pushing her away from the couch she had been trying to fall back on.

"You're getting water all over our living room." He pouted, "You and Ghirahim are such messes. It's like you brought the hurricane inside with you!"

"You are both incredibly high maintenance." Fi agreed, going back to whatever she had been doing before getting rudely interrupted. "The difference is Ghirahim knows it. Zelda, darling—"

Zelda nearly knocked Link over when she heard the pet name. As forced as it sounded, and almost definitely something she had picked up from Ghirahim (meaning it was not meant to be affectionate, but mocking), the subtle sign of Fi's growing emotional responses warmed her heart. Zelda pulled the sword spirit into a tight embrace.

"You're getting me wet. You know, Ghirahim is right to worry about rust." Fi sighed, but she smiled at Link over Zelda's shoulder. "I was saying you're still in denial. He's rubbing off on you."

"He's rubbing off on all of us, because if you don't stop dripping over my carpet, I am going to stab you too." Link threatened. He had never been very intimidating, and it had only gotten worse as time went on. Brow furrowed and lips pursed, he ushered Zelda away from where she would cause the most harm.

"Yeah, yeah, keep throwing your little tantrum." Zelda ruffled his hair as she walked past him to the bathroom, hitting Link in the head with her wet hat before slamming the door.

"What are we going to do with them?" Link sighed affectionately, looking over the damage they had done. At least this time there was no blood to clean up.

"That is a question I unfortunately cannot answer, Master Lin—"

Fi was interrupted by a loud crash outside, followed by some colorful and violent language mixed with expletives. Link took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down, but the door slammed open with the force of the wind once more.

"So, problem—"

"Ghirahim!"

#my writing #legend of zelda #skyward sword #zelda #ghirahim #link #fi #zelfi #ghiralink #after the war au #some cut lines included '#you can't put me in time out what the fuck zelda #and 'I'm not giving him mouth to mouth wtf' 'probably tastes like mint'#i spelled language so wrong auto correct didn't catch it ;-; sorry if you reblogged this before i fixed it i swear i edited the real writin #cherryskywriting

28 notes · View notes

the-peachpit · 3 years ago

Text

Another chapter from the Ender Mirror Series:

FIRE FLOWER SCAR

Romance: Ranboo/Tubbo kinda? The husband thing but slgihtly more romantic

TW: Scars/Constant Pain

Slicing through a golden apple the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board echoing around the kitchen. The sound of Michael babbling to himself in piglin gentle and barely registering in Tubbo’s damaged ear. Sounds of birds outside the open window silent to his brown floppy ears, drowned out by the ringing that would come and go in the left and buzzed constantly on the right.

Tubbo grabbed his right wrist dropping the knife watching it slightly fall against the floor narrowly avoiding his socked feet. Cursing under his breath Tubbo stretched out the fingers of his right hand watching them slowly curl back to his palm. The tips were numb, and he knew it would be a good hour before feeling returned even with a health potion, it would alleviate the burning tension in his charred tendons though. Placing the apple slices on a plate Tubbo turned to Michael in his highchair. Michael paused his unrecognizable speech pattern watching Tubbo with a curious blue eye. Setting the plate down in front of his son Tubbo smiled rubbing the soft cloth they kept over Michael's exposed skull to protect it.

Seeing the small piglin Tubbo remembered how attached he felt at first glance. A zombie pigling on its own missing an eye with skin peeling away from the right side of his face. it was like looking into a grotesque mirror. His skin itched all over remembered what it felt like as it peeled away in large scabs over time. The pain as he picked away large chunks of himself. Until Ranboo found him Tubbo was no better than a pathetic animal fighting away everyone out of fear. Lashing out with his untrained left hand desperate to hide his injured body that refused to heal. Ranboo had lured the monster out of its cave to give him healing potions every day and change his bandages. When Tubbo saw Michael, he wanted to wrap his arms around the trembling piglin and let him know he wouldn’t hurt forever. Now Tubbo made sure Michael would never hurt again.

“Here you go big man,” Tubbo smiled feeling the pain creeping up his arm. Heat radiating in his neck.

Watching Michael’s hooves gently grasp a golden apple slice Tubbo smiled.

Pushing aside bottle after bottle in the medicine cabinet Tubbo groaned standing on his tiptoes pushing another strength potion out of the way. The bottle slipped past the edge crashing to the floor.

“Damn it Ranboo, why do you have to put everything so high?” Tubbo grumbled remembered to give his husband an ear full when he got home.

Sliding the last bottle to the side Tubbo sighed closing the mirror. Fuck. Did Ranboo say he was going to make more healing potions today? Did he forget to tell Ranboo they were out early enough to have one leftover? The pain seized his right arm making him flinch stiff in one place as he willed himself to relax. Standing in the bathroom Tubbo let his gaze shift to the mirror he always avoided. A monster he hardly recognized gazed back at him through thick dark scruffy hair. One broken jagged horn with a gold band accompanied a white horn with cracks that curled around the fluffy mass of hair. Long ears with matching brown fluff almost got lost in the mass of hair just distinguishable. At least one- the ripped ear was hidden. The ear that wasn’t damaged sported an ear tag, the only part of his past he couldn’t seem to part with no matter how much he wanted to. The tag was bright yellow with dark bold lettering that read peace. Being forced into his ear during the festival to taunt him, remind him he was nothing but a pawn, an expendable animal no one was really listening to. Tubbo wanted nothing but peace for L’manburg, he wished he believed the people who said it was impossible.

With his left hand, Tubbo pushed his tangled bangs from his face. Red, angry, chewed up, and spit back out. From the right edge of his nose to the tip of his ears and down across his body Tubbo was walking scar tissue. The eye in his right socket milky and lazy lolling to the side useless. The bright yellow one he had left got fuzzy if he concentrated for too long on one thing. When he first joined Ranboo back in a home Tubbo avoided all mirrors unable to deal with the state of himself. Growing his hair long to cover the scars clothes couldn’t, he just wanted to forget.

Groaning again Tubbo walked to the bed he shared with an enderman hybrid laying down on his left side curing up. Unsure of the time he wasn’t sure when Ranboo was coming back from his lesson with Technoblade. Grinding his teeth -the way he wore down his top canines- it made him shiver every time he pictured Ranboo enjoying himself at Techno’s. Ranboo had denied it hundreds of times, calling it an opportunity to learn potion-making to help Tubbo. A way to keep the family safe if he was in Techno’s good graces. Tubbo knew it was all bullshit Ranboo liked hanging out with the Blood God, but Ranboo didn’t know he had that title.

Ranboo didn’t know a lot of things about his past from two years ago. He didn’t need to know and never pried. Tubbo tried once asking him to not hang out with the piglin and when his husband asked why Tubbo didn’t have a good answer. For some reason, he believed Ranboo would just obey what he said. Ranboo also thought it would be good for Techno to be around Michael maybe it would bring the little piglin out of his shell or give him some comfort. Tubbo was still fighting that idea as if Technoblade could be a comfort for anyone. Grimacing at himself in the mirror he knew the blood god was a comfort to his best friend in his time of need when Tubbo wasn’t there. Tubbo tried to take Techno from Tommy commending the pig to death in a public execution. Holding an ax against his exposed throat felt right, it felt good. He had power, control, all the fear in the back of his mind melted away. His scar didn’t burn in shame.

Techno escaped that day fucking scot-free no answering for a single crime. Not that Tubbo gave a shit about what he’d done the small ram just wanted to watch his boogie man get what he deserved. Eye for an eye, public execution for public execution. Tubbo is certain he is the only man to see fear in Techno’s red eyes and he’d been itching to see it again.

Snorting and squealing alerted Tubbo to Michael being sick of his highchair. Sighing sagging his one good shoulder Tubbo hated doing anything with Michael when he was immobile. The young boy would squirm kicking Tubbo who begged him to be still just for one second. Currently, his right arm was numb to his shoulder with a quick zap of pain-causing his neck to twitch to the same side. Out of the highchair one fluid movement, he could do it.

“I know I know,” Tubbo smiled at his son, “You want out and I can do that, just work with me,” he begged knowing it would be for nothing.

Slowly worming his left arm under Michael’s arms Tubbo held his breath as he started to lift upward. He’d been working hard on his left arm strength holding heavy objects, gardening, and writing with his left arm. To his surprise, Michael stayed relatively still ignoring a few squirming kicks. Nestled under Tubbo’s arm like a bag Michael giggled and Tubbo was proud of himself.

The screen door opened in the minute making Tubbo spin on his heels to a figure ducking under the door frame to enter the house.

“Didn’t we ask Foolish to make this bigger?” Ranboo stretched his back out stepping into the kitchen.

Tubbo smiled looking at the gold ring around Ranboo’s white horn on the non-enderman half, “He’d been busy with Quakity from what I’ve heard. I’ll try asking him again.”

Ranboo cocked a brow and Tubbo had forgotten Michael spitting raspberries under his arm snout squished up.

Lowering the piglin child to the ground Tubbo rolled his shoulder back, “I’m getting good at the one arm dad thing.”

“Fuck,” Ranboo started digging through his canvas shoulder bag, “I’m so sorry, is it bad?”

Shaking his head Tubbo smiled, “Not unbearable, good thing you came home at just the right time.”

“Here.”

Ranboo held out a little round potion bottle with a cork in the top, Tubbo tilted his head to the side and Ranboo used his claws to swiftly uncork it. Grasping the bottle in his stubby fingers he noticed how dull his own nails had gotten. He used to have sharp nails that could cut through the skin too easily. Ranboo held him down the first time he filed his nails down crying more than Tubbo did. The ram boy had sued his long claw privileges to pull thick pieces of skin away from his body. The enderman said he’d never heal that way. At the time Tubbo hadn’t wanted to heal and it was fine with him if he stripped himself to the bone.

Downing the pink liquid Tubbo shuttered poking his pink tongue from his mouth.

“You guys still can’t make this taste any better?”

Ranboo shrugged, “I tried bringing it up to Techno, he seems to look down on strawberry flavored health potion.”

“He looks down on anything that fits outside of his perspective,” Tubbo could feel the right side of his body at least.

“Why don’t you sit down,” Ranboo avoided any more Techno talk ushering Tubbo to the living room.

Pouting Tubbo wanted to continue his regularly queued-up Technoblade rant knowing it would accomplish nothing. It just felt good to make his opinion known again. Falling back onto plush couch cushions guided by Ranboo’s gentle hand Tubbo felt his right side tense up again. Forcing his back against the couch he focused on the way his left side felt relieved after being busy on his feet since he woke up. Busy with Michael, running an Inn and doing maintenance, planning out a greenhouse for when winter made its swift return, and gardening. The day had gone so fast and he’d gotten so much done, why did he still feel like he could have done more? The pain settled in his shoulder and neck making him wince.

“Ranboo can I have another health potion?” Tubbo groaned leaning his head back against the couch.

“You know the rules,” Ranboo placed his slender fingers on Tubbos shoulders, “You have to wait twenty minutes between each potion.”

“Just let me double dose this once,” Tubbo whined, “It’s been a long day Boo.”

“Doctors orders.”

Ranboo pushed Tubbo forwards and Tubbo slumped on command feeling Ranboos fingers kneed across his back. He hummed basking in the massage his husband was always so willing to give. Tubbo had tried massage therapy before with Niki she was sweet and tried every way she knew how to get Tubbo less dependent on health potion on bad days. He never felt less pain though, and slowly stopped going too embarrassed to tell her it wasn’t working. The moment Ranboo watched Tubbo down three full health potions in five minutes like a glass of water the enderman hybrid put his foot down. Hiding the health potions Ranboo took notes from Niki using his strength to kneed into Tubbo’s muscles making him melt. In minutes Tubbo was sprawled across the green couch Ranboo hated because Tubbo found it outside and said it was the color of puke. Tubbo thought it was the comfiest couch he’d ever sat on and told the older it relaxed him. That was all it took and Ranboo gave in when it came to physical comfort Ranboo would do anything to alleviate Tubbo’s pain.

Tubbo frowned.

“Why haven’t you ever asked me what happened?” Tubbo mumbled into his crossed arms.

“Hm?” Ranboo paused.

“Even the day you found me, you’ve never asked what happened,” Tubbo slowly started to sit up feeling a dull ache in his back.

“I figured you would tell me when you were ready,” Ranboo pressed down a little harder keeping Tubbo from straining himself.

Ranboo was too patient with Tubbo who could never bother to be patient with anyone. Maybe it was time.

“Do remember the firework festival last year?” Tubbo mumbled.

“Vaguely.”

Tubbo sat up feeling the hitch in his back choosing to ignore it, “You’re kidding! How could you forget that?”

Ranboo rolled his green and red eyes the horizontally divided bottoms showing, “I’m more prepared this year. I got earmuffs.”

Tubbo played with the extra-long sleeve of his shirt- actually it was Ranboo’s shirt.

Every year a firework festival is held when all corners of the map experience spring or summer simultaneously for a week. The air is hot and sticky with not one cool place left to run to. Tubbo had spent the week in every year since he was a kid sensitive to temperatures. Moving to Snowchester had been good for him he thrived in the cold. Snowchester had four months of warm weather before being fridged the rest of the year. Six years ago, everyone found the hottest week of the year was the same no matter who you spoke to and to celebrate something altogether they started putting on firework shows. Ranboo had begged Tubbo to sit outside and watch and he thought he’d be fine. With Ranboo to protect him, he was rarely afraid of anything.

Tubbo pulled a strong on his sleeve, “You know it wasn’t the noise, by itself at least,” he scratched his ear, “I love loud noises. I can’t hear quiet things anymore.”

When he saw that first flash in the sky it all came flooding back and his vision tunneled. Every spark was coming right for him ready to fall on his head and set his hair ablaze again. Heat pooled across his skin feeling it melt and slosh off to the ground. He felt exposed and vulnerable as red illuminated the starless sky. For the first time in two years, he swore he could see out of his right eye, and he saw his demise. Over and over again he watched himself die. He grabbed his hair and screamed letting it echo in his ears over the bursts. They had set up a blanket on the roof of their home. If not for Ranboo holding his small waist letting him curl and cower into his tall frame Tubbo would have jumped. He felt it in his bones he would have gone out on his own terms because he’d gone out on everyone else’s so far.

“Lights too bright?” Ranboo cocked his head to the side, “I can fix that,” he gently coaxed Tubbo’s hands out of his baggy shirt to hold them.

Tubbo squeezed Ranboo’s hands, they were always so cold. His hands were dwarfed in comparison, Tubbo knows they’d never seen bloodshed. He wondered what it was like to not lose a piece of yourself to others' violence. To not get swept up in others' regrets as they clung to morals that never meant much in the end. Not enough to destroy nations and livelihoods. Tubbo wanted to get lost in Ranboo’s world it wasn’t perfect, but it felt safe. He squeezed Ranboo’s hands gently with his black tainted ground down claws.

“I was executed Ranboo,” Tubbo felt his heartbeat stutter, “In front of everyone in L’manburg during a festival.”

Silence.

Looking over at Ranboo his eyes were glassy water collecting in the corners Tubbo wiped them gently. There was no sense in him crying over something that happened long before they met. Nothing he could change now it was written in stone, but Ranboo made the past bearable.

“A firework was shot directly at me, I had nowhere to run labeled a traitor. The impact killed me, and I didn’t revive quite right. With no one to heal my wounds while I was returning. I was thrown to the side a causality really.”

Ranboo squeezed Tubbo’s hands tighter his eyes no longer held tears, but something strong, steely. Anger, it was a rare look for the soft enderman hybrid he could find the good in a nuke.

“Who was it?” Ranboo’s voice sounded strained a sound Tubbo had never heard before, it made him nervous. He was never nervous around Ranboo.

Tubbo couldn’t look at the man shaking gently hoping Ranboo wouldn’t notice. This is all he wanted, to tell his husband to get him away from the piglin hybrid, but Tubbo knew. He knew how much Rnaboo enjoyed the others' company, who was he to take away his husband’s happiness? He was his father.

“I-I-I,” Tubbo babbled.

“Tubbo,” Ranboo shifted from his spot kneeling on the floor holding Tubbo’s shoulders firmly.

Tubbo’s good eye connected with Ranboo’s beautiful gaze his green and red eyes had a fire lit behind them making them shine.

“I can’t tell you,” Tubbo’s throat felt dry and scratched.

“You can tell me anything,” Ranboo promised.

Tubbo opened his mouth again shocked that nothing came out. This was the moment he was waiting for, he never shut up about what a terrible influence Technoblade was. Why couldn’t he drive the final nail into the coffin?

“If I say then I’m no better than Schlatt,” Tubbo turned his face from Ranboo.

“Who?”

Tubbo flinched, “Oh yea, that’s my dad.”

“I’ve never heard you use his name.”

“But you’ve heard everyone talk about how awful he was,” Tubbo was sure of it.

“Y-yea,” Ranboo stuttered.

“He manipulated just about everyone, Me, Quakity,” Tubbo’s throat hurt as he forced his voice not to waiver, “ Technoblade was manipulated into killing me.” Daring to glance at his husband Tubbo was met with a shocked expression. Ranboo’s eyes were clouded again with tears dropping silently against his cheeks leaving red thin trails that would take weeks to heal. His Adams apple bobbed gently over and over Tubbo was afraid he was choking back on his words.

In a desperate attempt to comfort the lanky enderman hybrid Tubbo took his clawed hands in his again a physical comfort.

“Boo,” Tubbo frowned hiding behind his long bangs, “I’m sorry, really I- it wasn’t his fault.”

“You don’t think that,” Ranboo’s voice was raspy, “You always ask me to stop hanging out with him. You’re mad at him.”

“No,” Tubbo hurried, “Techno was a good friend of mine, I’m not mad, I’m. I’m afraid.”

The thought of the large piglin hybrid alone sent a chill down Tubbo’s spine.

“I’m afraid of what he could take from me again. I’m afraid of what he thinks after that day.” Tubbo pulled his hands back fidgeting.

The silence was ringing in Tubbo’s ears. He just wanted Ranboo to say something.

“This,” Ranboo started his voice too loud suddenly, “This probably doesn’t mean much, but he asks about you.”

Tubbo felt his lungs seize his good ear straining to listen.

“He asks about your injuries, how you’re healing if you’re in pain. He’s upped the strength of several health potions and tested them before letting me bring them home. He asks if you need anything. I think in a weird way, he’s sorry.” Ranboo’s voice was soft, and it sounded like Tubbo was underwater.

“Really?” Tubbo’s voice cracked.

Ranboo nodded.

Tubbo felt his lip quiver and knew there was no way to stop the flow of tears that mimicked his husband. To finally talk about the day he died the pain of losing more than his life, but the comfort of a friend. To be afraid of Ranboo suffering a similar fate or being told Tubbo was nothing but a kid pretending they knew how to run a nation. He knows what he became on accident a dictator bred with fear of losing everything by his father. The man also lived in crippling fear of an uprising. Tubbo knew that seeing Techno again would feel like a hot iron to his skin, it would be terrifying. Even with Ranboo beside him, it would take everything for him not to collapse at the feet of his executioner. Yet Ranboo stood beside that man every day, and if he wasn’t safe Ranboo would keep him far away. He would never tell Tubbo he thought the man had remorse if he didn’t believe it to be true.

Tubbo lunged forward knocking Ranboo back against the hardwood as he landed on top of him burying his face into his suit collar as he cried.

“Baby steps,” Ranboo rubbed Tubbo’s back, “Right now let’s get you another health potion.”

Tubbo nodded feeling the pain in his arm, but it didn’t sting as bad as before.

#dsmp writing #dsmp fic #au #tubbo mcyt #ranboo #clingy duo #writing #fan fic blog #fan fic author #update #i literally released this the day after they talked about scars #ender mirror #enderwalk state #bee duo

12 notes · View notes

biznichwrites · 5 years ago

Text

A Dream Come True

Length: 5K Pairing: Giyuu x Reader

This is to go hand in hand with @dudeandduchess‘s accompanying post in which we had alternative endings with this fic. I wrote until the end of the smut, after which we created our own endings. Think of it as yin and yang.

If you would like to read Jen’s nightmare version check it out here.

She had filled her head with pretty lies, thoughts of soft, fluffy things that tickled her stomach like butterflies. The sight of one of the few other water breath users - the pillar, in fact - brought a smile to her face. He was perfect for the role - eyes as blue as the ocean, steady like the waves, strong like a deep current, carving his own path like a river, yet calm like the water's surface at night.

What started as infatuation became a crush, leaving her whole world centered around him. Inside she knew she wouldn't grab his attention, even if she was one of a handful of slayers at the water estate. Their rarity made them all busy on missions, there wasn't much time to see each other in passing, so she treasured every moment spent in Giyuu's presence.

Despite their schedules, she tried to do more for him. The maintenance he had performed almost single handedly was spread among the both of them. Mending his uniforms when they were damaged, even his beloved haori once. Salmon was always stocked once she figured out it was his favorite, even going as far as to cook it just as he liked. That was a mistake on her part - his glowing smile pulled her in deeper.

Still she felt her heart ache over the months. No matter what she did he never spoke a word to her, not that he really spoke to anyone else. Had she done something to make him hate her?

The day she had given up on his heart came shortly after. It wasn't often she needed help or saving, but a lower moon was a bit beyond her hope to slay. She had kept neck and neck with it for some time, praying that a pillar would arrive to slay it before it ate her. Like written from a bad romance novel, her Pillar came just as she felt weak after hours of battling, his blade cutting through the neck of the lower moon with ease.

Her knight in shining armor, so to speak. He came to save her, specifically him. Her heart fluttered in joy, tears gathering in her eyes. Maybe he would be impressed that she managed to last so long, to stay alive and keep the moon busy until someone stronger arrived. Her breath hitched as she heard him inhale, as if to speak.

"He wasn't much trouble, you should have been able to slay him. If you're weak you should know not to challenge a moon." He hadn't spared a glance her way, simply flicking his sword to clear it of blood before sheathing it. Her heart broke as he walked on, leaving her to watch the mismatched haori on his back as the distance between them grew.

***

"Giyuu, you should try to get close to others! I know it's scary but there's plenty of people out there that are nicer than the way Shinobu makes it seem." Tanjirou smiled at the elder water slayer, urging Giyuu to connect to others the way they had, at the very least.

"I'm not sure about that. People don't like me." Giyuu sat with his legs pulled up by the bank of the river they stopped at.

"All you can do is try! Didn't you want to become friends with Sanemi?" Tanjirou wasn't going to let Giyuu escape this time, even if it meant some friendly pestering.

"Yeah, I think he likes ohagi so I was going to give him some." Giyuu stared into the distance, trying to imagine the violent man attempting to receive a gift.

"What about (Y/N)? She's been nice!" Tanjirou was hoping to point out anyone who had been kind to the pillar, at least someone who wasn't filled with malice.

"Who?" Giyuu's face went blank at the name, unable to recall who the name was attached to. "I quit remembering names of most slayers since they die so fast."

Tanjirou deflated at that, finding it sad for Giyuu to view life in such a bleak manner. It felt him grasping at straws to find the correct words to express himself as he thought of what to say next.

"You remembered me before I was a slayer! She survived a solo fight with a lower moon, I don't think she's dying any time soon, you know." Tanjirou hoped the other would understand what he was saying, at the very least.

"Oh… She didn't beat the moon, though." Giyuu, like a child that was done with the conversation, drew idly in the sand below them with a stick.

"Well we can work on the ohagi for Sanemi, how about that?"

***

Giyuu thought of the girl Tanjirou had mentioned. He didn't know what to make of it all - she had survived, which is what he was looking for in a friend, but she wouldn't have without help. At the same time neither would have Tanjirou. Perhaps he was being too critical, she was still alive and kicking to this day.

However he hadn't seen her much since then. Maybe she was training more? That was enough of an explanation for him. It wasn't unusual for the entire water estate to be empty with as few of the water breath users completed the final selection, much less survived long enough to rank high enough to live in the estate.

The next time he saw her, presumably after a mission as she was returning at dawn, he recognized her more than just a name. He bit his tongue, unsure what to say as he stood on the engawa staring at her tired body limping closer. The moment her eyes caught his she glanced away, turning towards another part of the estate to rest in.

He would have questioned it more, but occurrences like this weren't uncommon. People avoided him, that was normal. Yet the way she kept herself at a distance made him want to find out why she did such a thing. Why did she hide away from him?

His breath caught in his throat one morning, watching as she sat on the far end of the engawa in a simple yukata. She must be getting ready to sleep, given most slayers were nocturnal, but he thought she looked nice in the morning sun. Pretty even.

Months drug along, her eyes never meeting his own. Yet he felt himself drawn to her. All the actions she had taken before - he hadn't forgotten them, but he hadn't fully appreciated them at the time either. She had done something for him without being asked with nothing in return. Someone that selfless couldn't be a bad person. He still felt a bit bitter with himself for being so critical with her, the same he felt with Tanjirou. Neither deserved that.

***

It wasn't until Murata and a few others had saved up a large sum of money to buy enough alcohol to drown all the demon slayers, that he had a chance to interact with her. The whole time he was tense, almost awkwardly staring at her the whole time.

"Earth to Giyuu, you there?" Really, Murata was the only one that talked to the pillar so freely, with the exception of Tanjirou. Having kept the pillar alive at one point gave him a bit of the right, so no one spoke of it.

"Hm?" Giyuu's head turned back to Murata, clearly not aware of anything he had just said.

"I was seeing if you were going to drink with us. We're celebrating a year of not losing any water breath users. I figured of anyone you'd want to join." Murata handed him a bottle, not really waiting for a response. Was it responsible for a pillar to drink? Not at all. Had they organized this with Kagaya in mind? Of course, they had consulted with him to make sure they could celebrate freely.

Giyuu stared at the bottle then back to Murata, eyes flickering between the two. "I've never drank before…"

"Now is a good time to start!" Murata laughed with a pat to the pillar shoulder before disappearing into a small bunch of slayers.

***

Giyuu had drank nearly half the bottle in the course of a few hours, but he didn't find himself relaxed. Rather he found himself in a flurry of emotions - sad remembering everyone he's lost, angry with himself for allowing his life to be ruined by both demons and his own mismanagement of his emotions, but most surprising of all he found himself jealous.

The only female slayer of the bunch was flirted with endlessly. Most of the less than classy lines were met by laughter by the slayers. He knew they were treating it as a joke, even when she pretended to be the man hitting on Murata pretending to be a woman, but he didn't like it. He rested knowing that it was all in fun, though.

His drunken eyes met hers, making her already flushed cheeks even more red than previously before she glanced away. He was happy she was mindful to wear hakama, least the drunk young men around them get any ideas.

"Murataaaaa, when are you gonna get a wife? You keep talking about settling down but you're doing a shit job at it." Her laughter was kind enough, even if she was poking fun.

"(Y/N)! You know I-I-I---! I'm trying! It's just difficult!" Murata floundered under the playful scrutiny before returning a rebuttal, "So when are you getting married (Y/N)?"

"You know I'm dying alone, don't ask dumb questions." She laughed, but the laughter joining her was awkward, quiet and confused. Technically she could pick any slayer and they'd say yes - just for a lack of women around them, especially ones that understood the nature of their jobs. A moment passed but no further comments or banter had been added to the conversation after her bleak comment. Her face heated realizing she had made a fool of herself, not that Murata was much better as he fumbled moving the conversation forward.

Giyuu watched as she tilted up the porcelain of her heated sake, taking in how her throat contracted as she gulped. Was it proper for her to drink like that? No. But it technically wasn't traditional for women to wield swords and hunt demons, so it wasn't like social protocol meant much to her anyway.

Almost silently she slipped away, padding over to her room at the far end of the estate. His eyes followed her movements, taking in the dejected way she looked. Was she broken-hearted? He didn't understand why, she was pretty in her own way, stronger than most gave her credit for, smart enough to stay alive. Maybe he was more fond of her than he let on.

After some time the men grew rowdy, playing games and raising their voices. Murata seemed to stop drinking after a certain point, clearly aware of his limits.

"Murata?" Said slayer turned his attention to Giyuu, almost surprised that he spoke. "Is there something wrong with (Y/N)? She left a bit ago."

"Oh… I made a mistake and brought up something I shouldn't have, she's probably just having some time to herself." Murata prayed the Pillar didn't press for more info, being one of the few she admitted the situation to. He was far too drunk to stop himself from slipping up.

"Is she sad?" The lower ranked slayer blinked at the question, taken aback at how simple it was.

"Yeah, she just has her ways of dealing with it - wait! Where are you going?" Giyuu stood, moving toward the woman's room without another word. Murata prayed it didn't make things worse.

***

The pillar stood outside her door, listening as her crying was muffled into hitched breaths and harsh inhales to quiet herself. He wasn't sure what he was doing with the alcohol in his system, but he slowly pushed the shoji open and closed it quietly behind him.

"Is there something wrong?" He was trying to be nice but the jump of surprise from her was clearly not the reaction he was searching for. Her hand rested above her heart in surprise before gripping the cloth in anguish.

"I'm fine. You can go back to the others." Her head tilted away, not meeting his eyes.

"I'm sure Murata didn't mean to upset you. Did something happen? Did you lose your fiance?" It was the only explanation he could rationalize why she wouldn't take a spouse when she had her choice of men flirting with her earlier.

"I said I'm fine. Leave me alone." She flopped back down on her futon, facing away from him. He wished she didn't look so pretty or the light of the moon didn't accentuate the curves of her waist and hips. Despite her words he never left, she knew at the lack of sound her shoji made when open and shut.

Rather he shuffled closer, nowhere near as elegant as he usually moved. Still he slid his fingers into her hair, finding himself rationalizing the feel of her hair with the need to sooth her.

"I'm sure you could find a husband in the slayers if you're worried about that." He didn't like it, especially the thought of not being able to freely look at her and the risk of never being able to touch her again.

"I said my plan was to die alone, it's not that complicated."

"Why?"

"Men don't want a woman like me." Her words croaked from her throat and he could help but sink into the futon and pull her back to his chest. His nose was pressed to the back of her hair and he could bask in her scent.

"That's not true." The more of her he got, the greedier he became. He wanted to remind her that the other water breath users would marry her, but she clearly wasn't interested.

"You don't know that." He felt her back trembling as she held back her distress and he hugged her closer. "I'm covered scars, I can barely fight and I'm a pitiful slayer, I don't have anything to my name but what I wear, I'm not pretty and dainty like other girls-"

Her hands covered her mouth. She was complaining to the very person that filled her with insecurities. Deep inside she wanted to hate him, but she couldn't. It didn't mean she wasn't bitter. Her love for him had soured, painting her into a corner of self depreciation. She knew this wasn't him, this was some drunken version of the man likely looking to have a piece of her.

For what it was worth, she would let him. At least it would be the final chapter to the broken heart saga of her life.

"None of that is true."

"I don't need lies to make me feel better."

He was growing a bit frustrated. His hand gripped her waist, both keeping her still and holding her to him. He was painfully aware he could slide his hands lower to grip the curve of her hips or slide his hands upward to cup her breasts.

"You're pretty. A good slayer. You're good as you are." He couldn't think of anything more grand to say, not that he was eloquent with words anyway. He prayed she understood, but the pause in her response made fear eat at his chest. Had he said the wrong thing?

"...Did you want to sleep with me?" That was the only conclusion she could think of. He was drunk and needed a body that was willing. If he was into women she was the closest one, and considering she was the only one in the estate he had to act fast.

"Sleep with you?" His words were quiet, as if he was scared to say them loud enough.

"As in sex. Did you want to have sex with me?" She was only so bold because she was facing away from him. The alcohol and bitter feeling in her chest brought up the question, but she could never work up the nerve to ask if she was looking directly at him.

He buried his face against her neck weighing the options. She was drunk, but so was he. There was no way either should do this. At the same time he doubted the option would ever be available again, especially as his attraction to her grew.

"Yes…"

***

He hovered over her, pushing in deeply with a moan. Her eyes had shed so many tears through the night, even more when he undressed her, but he couldn't help but to find her more addicting than before.

"You're so warm, oh fuck…" His head rested against her shoulder as he found himself able to thrust into her depths. "You're so beautiful, so perfect."

He heard her crying harder, moans of pleasure breaking through her moans of agony. Long had passed the attempts to calm her tears, especially when she grew nervous when he saw her naked.

He never missed her whispers of self depreciation, how she fought all compliments that slipped from his lips as he undressed her layer by layer. Even if she found herself disgusting he couldn't agree with her. Every scar he uncovered, every little imperfection his eyes found cemented his infatuation.

It was her, something so unique to only her. No one else could replicate every little aspect of her.

Yet he couldn't make her stop crying. Soft whispers of praise didn't just fall on def ears but only pushed her into further despair. Every kind thing he said only brought more tears.

He didn't miss how her hips canted into his, how her eyes grew hazy as pleasure set in - the way her lips trembled after he kissed her, the second of hope in her eyes before she turned her head away.

The soft hiccups between whimpers were never lost on him. They came at his every kiss and praise, every moment he touched her in a way she enjoyed. As if some part of her wanted to receive his adoration before becoming buried in negativity.

She couldn't deny it, either. Simply knowing he didn't despise her, or at least a part of her, both healed and hurt her. For a moment she had some value to him. She was someone worthy of his sole attention.

Rough hands graced her body, pushing her hair from her face before guiding down her neck to cup her breast, gently squeezing her nipples before tracing her scars down her torso. When he reached her hips one hand held firm while the other graced the area above where they were joined. He remembered in a haze that men had talked about women feeling good there. A clit? All he knew is that her legs tightened around his hips the moment his thumb grazed the tip of the bud.

Abusing such a sensitive spot to see her reactions was a bit cruel on his part, but he wanted to see her relieved of her tears. It was time she felt good - both in terms of sex and about herself. He basked in the moment he hands left her face to cling to the bedding below her.

Dipping down he kissed her lips again, taking in how she seemed to squeeze tighter at the simple piece of affection. Despite the fact she felt inferior he adored having her like this - seeing her broken, in a way no one else has seen before, and the ability to see her put back together again. The vulnerability neither showed the world, only shared with the other.

He shifted his hips, thrusting deeper than before. She clenched around him in ways that made him regret never considering doing this sooner. At the same time he knew their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Their suffering was similar in a sense, they both could understand not having any value in themselves. Had he really been so blind to her all this time?

"You're so good." His head fell to her shoulder as his hips jerked into her warmth. The man felt elation when she gave in and clung to him. At first her hands were lightly touching, only loosely circling his back. Even if he wasn't sober he recognized enough of her reactions to make her react how he wanted.

Kisses were placed to her cheek and jaw as he tilted his head from her shoulder. Her breath shuttered, her nails timidly scratching his skin as her hold grew more firm.

He didn't expect her to orgasm from such simple affection but he couldn't explain why else her core felt as if it were milking his cock. Her arms and legs tightened around him, pulling him flush against her as her face buried into the curve of his neck.

It was welcoming to hear a cry of pleasure rather than anguish. The sound graced him, bringing him to climax shortly after her. Had he been sober he would have been more mindful of mindlessly cumming inside her without a second thought. For the moment he wanted to bask in the feeling. The after glow of sex was only highlighted by the feeling on her nuzzling into his neck.

For a moment she accepted him. Someone liked him, even if he could still hear her hiccup as warm tears covered her cheeks again. He considered wiping her tears away but decided that he would rather let her hide against his chest. It was somewhere safe, where the judgements of the world that had brought her so low couldn't touch her.

Her heart throbbed at the feeling of him holding her close, even as they shifted to lay chest to chest on the futon. His cum dripping out to dirty her thighs wouldn't deter her for enjoying the moment. Regret and shame could come later, for now she wanted to accept just a grain on the validation he gave. Even if he regretted in the morning she wanted to savor the moment.

***

The next morning, or rather afternoon, came too soon. Her eyes hurt, presumably from all the crying she had done, and her body was simply tired. While she wasn't sober, she remembered the previous night. Perhaps with less clear detail than she'd prefer, but the feeling hadn't changed. Tension gnawed at her stomach as she felt the water pillar's warmth against her skin even before she opened her eyes.

Giyuu woke silently, as always, but with a shadow of a smile on his face. Not that anyone could see it, not even his bedmate. Still waking up with her in his arms was a pleasant feeling. She hadn't run away from him, hadn't pushed him away again. She had accepted him, at least for the time being.

The futon wasn't made for two people so it was to be expected they were pressed flush together. Yet neither felt uncomfortable. His back blocked the light faulting through the shoji, sparing her eyes the brunt of the light.

She had assumed the night after a half tipsy hook up would be more awkward, but the moment his fingers traced her spine she found herself melting into him and the blankets. The bitter feeling inside hadn't disappeared, but the harsh things she believed to be fact that haunted her seemed to be farther away more than ever.

Timidly she nuzzled against him, testing the waters of his affectionate gestures. Warm hands pressed against her back, pulling her into him. Her arms circled him tentatively, only applying the lightest of pressure before returning his hold on her.

His heart throbbed, feeling as if it were in his throat. While he found actions easier than words things became more confusing the more awake he became. Holding her out of some sleepy instinct seemed right, but now he was awake and aware of what he was doing. However she seemed to like it, even reciprocating of her own free will. It was a much better turn of events than her crying about being unlovable or something of the sort.

"Good morning, Giyuu." He looked down to find her peeking up at him, seemingly just as unsure of herself as he felt. Yet he didn't miss the hopeful glimmer in her eyes, the way she subconsciously held on to him. She really didn't want him to leave, did she? "How are you feeling?"

"Morning. I'm fine." More than fine, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself. Unconsciously his hand rose to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. He struggled to hold a conversation, but he'd try for her. "You?"

"I'm great. Tired though, still." With a heaving breath she buried her face against his neck as he had done to her the night before.

"One thing." Her eyes blinked in surprise, unused to him sparking more conversation. Anxiety rolled in her stomach again worrying about all the possibilities he could bring up. Was he going to ask her to let go so he could leave? Not tell anyone? Was he ashamed of sleeping with her? Yet when he spoke he sounded as if his word was final, nothing to be debated.

"Don't talk about yourself like that anymore."

***

Months passed without incident, the pair of water breath users growing closer by the day until either were inseparable between missions. While Giyuu was never a fan of public displays of affection, the rest of the estate could see the change in him.

"Is something different?" Murata whispered to Tanjirou, who was sneaking a glance at the water pillar with him.

"Absolutely. I can't tell what, but I can smell the happiness on him." The younger slayer tapped his nose before the elder took a hold of the top of his head and twisted it back to focus his sights on the engawa.

The once sad slayer, one who had given up on her heart, sat next to Giyuu with a grin that could blind the room. Even the pillar himself couldn't help but return the sentiment with a shy smile of his own. As she took his hand his cheeks flushed a pink tone, as if that had been the most indecent thing they had done thus far.

"Good morning, Giyuu." Lips pressed to his blushing cheek, same as she had done every day since they agreed to be together shortly after their drunken, steamy night. His cheeks plumped with the happy smile before returning to a simple content expression.

"Good morning, dear." He couldn't deny it was odd at first, but receiving her affections had become the highlight of his day. Even if he was too shy to return them all in the public eye, he held her hand more firmly as a silent promise to grace her with the love she gave him later.

I'm the distance the lower ranking slayers looked on in surprise. Murata, who had a notion of what happened, soon wiped his face of shock to replace it with comical tears of joy.

"She did it! Tanjirou, she did it!" Murata shook Tanjirou's shoulders in excitement, not mindful about being caught in the moment. "She finally got him to break his shell. Look at them! Oh my-"

Murata's mindless blubbering went on and on, while Tanjirou sniffed the air. Something was different, a familiar scent but he couldn't quite place it. Wait, was she-?

"Giyuu, I actually needed to talk to you." Tension rose in him as his lover said that, but her demeanor was not the same style of tense. Rather she seemed a bit anxious but not angry or upset. His hands held both of hers, as if there were a silent plea to not leave. The shy upward curve of her lips soothed him.

"I don't really know how to say it more eloquently, but…" Her hand took his, pressing it to her stomach. "We're going to be parents."

Below his palm he could feel the fabric of her yukata and the skin below. It was firmer than he remembered, likely from their child growing within.

"You're really…? It's mine…?" His eyes were wide, jaw slack as he pressed both hands around her stomach, even if it hadn't grown much yet. Perhaps that's how he hadn't noticed before.

"Of course, I haven't been sleeping with anyone but you." She laughed to herself as he all but slid off the engawa to sit on the ground and become level with the child growing within her. Idly her hands traced through his hair as his eyes bore into her form.

"I'm going to be a father." The whisper was almost silent, meant for her ears only.

"You'll do wonderful, sweetheart." Her pet name for him made his cheeks turn bright red. Immediately he ducked to hide his face against her stomach. Her arms circled him and held him close, lightly scratching at the hairs along the nape of his neck.

After a moment he glanced up at her. His heart swelled, bubbling in his chest in a way he couldn't describe. Never before had he felt so strongly, so intensely. Rough hands reached for her own again, intertwining their fingers as they did so often before.

"I love you." The words poured from his mouth before realizing it. "Marry me."

Bonus:

"That scent, she's pregnant." If there was anyone that could recognize the scent of a pregnant woman, it was Tanjirou. After all he had spent most of his childhood with his mother pregnant.

"Tanjirou! We're going to be uncles!" Murata began to sob on Tanjirou, happy tears running down his face like a waterfall. "Oh my God, we're going to have a baby at the estate!"

Tanjirou laughed to himself as he watched the soon to be parents in the distance. Other than the scent of pregnancy he could smell their happiness. A couple of people, so defeated by the world, could find happiness together.

If that wasn't poetic, he didn't know what was.

#giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader #tomioka giyuu x reader #tomioka giyu x reader #giyu x reader #giyu tomioka x reader #giyuu #giyuu tomioka #tomioka giyuu #tomioka giyu #giyu tomioka #tomioka #kny imagine #kny x reader #biznichwrites #jen

374 notes · View notes

dudeandduchess · 5 years ago

Text

Giyuu x F!S/O: A Nightmare Come to Life (Angst, NSFW Scenario)

Summary: A one-sided love that turns even more tragic after a night spent together. Note: @biznichwrites and I are trying out an alternate reality collab fic, and this is the result. We have the same first half (which she wrote), and we divert into different endings. In Biz’s words, think of it as Yin and Yang. You can read Biz’s fluff-filled piece here. Word Count: 9,324

***

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Suicide, Depictions of Blood, Character Deaths, Love Triangles, Talks of the Afterlife